S T R A Y

It felt like hours had passed since the little girl was thrown into her cell. The aching rebellion of her muscles screamed at her and her body begged to retreat towards the sterile cot to the side of the room. Fluorescent lights overhead reached every corner of the small chamber and it showed a spotless cleanliness that was grossly smeared by the girl’s presence.

Though her body was screaming for rest, the girl remained standing by the metallic door she had come in from. As was her custom, she pondered on the thought that her company was not welcome here. The room was too clean and she was just too filthy to be inside.

Looking down at her bare feet, she saw that her once pale skin was now a dark gray from all the running she had done. The hospital gown she adorned was no longer a pristine white but was tarnished with a shock of dark red, her blood and someone else’s. A smattering of bruises too was all over her. Add to that a cut lip, a dislocated shoulder, and three broken fingers and she felt like the most useless little girl in the word.

All things considered, she was actually really lucky. The owner of the blood stains that was sharing her gown was in much more of a terrible condition. Raising her arms unsteadily, she eyed her scarlet soaked hands in complete detachment remembering what she had done just a few minutes ago. Fingers inside a boy’s mouth, she had pulled hard and had actually ripped off his jaw. That was how she broke them, her fingers, with him biting hard breaking skin and bone in pure panic. Was the boy even alive, she wondered?

The event wasn’t even her fault yet she still felt guilt gnawing at her conscience. Will it ever go away, that nagging remorse at the back of her mind? The girl highly doubted it. Yet, the people responsible didn’t even bat an eyelash at what they had caused. She wondered whether or not she’d turn out like them one day. Unfeeling, cruel devils. The possibility was high but she denied it ever being so.

Still studying her hands, the girl attempted to clench a fist with her left where her broken fingers were and ended up biting her tongue hard enough to draw blood. It was painful. One of the things she learned in this place was that pain was good. An odd thing to look forward to everyday but if it meant she was alive then she really didn’t care.

A loud pound on the door startled the girl out of her thoughts and she looked back to see a small hatch open and a pair of eyes peering inside to look at her.

“Thirty-eight,” came his brusque, raspy voice. “The kid you mauled is top priority. You think you can wait for the doctor until then?”

Glancing back down at her dirtied body, she replied, “Yes, sir.” Before the man could close the hatch, she quickly added, “Permission to ask a question, sir.”

The man eyed her curiously then replied, “Go ahead.”

“Is it true that the Admiral is dead?”

There was only one Admiral they all knew who was involved in all of this and the man appeared surprised at her question. “Where did you hear this?”

“I overheard two officers talking, sir,” she answered, back straight, arms to her side and eyes aimed in front, the metal door behind her.

“And who were these two officers?” he asked with a hint of anger in his voice.

“I do not know, sir,” she lied easily.

The man was quiet for a while until he finally shot back, “What else did you hear?”

“That the Admiral was shot in the head. Sniper they said. Speculation is that the killer is just fifteen years old,” as an afterthought, she added, “sir.”

When the man didn’t answer, the girl said, “Is it true then? The Admiral is dead?”

“The doctor will be in shortly.” The hatch was closed and silence soon followed.

That in itself was answer enough. It seemed the rumors had some truth to them. Walking towards the cot, the girl sat down and unconsciously started to clench and unclench her left hand to the farthest it could go. She relished in the pain.

The news of the Admiral’s death somewhat dampened her mood. Not because she was sad he was dead, but it was the fact that she wasn’t there to see his death. That aside, the news was something she welcomed. That was one less person she worried about.

One down, three more to go.