Eleutheria | Chapter 7

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A young, slender, dark haired thing struts down the bland, cream painted corridor. She contrasts with everything, clashing violently with the statement motivational posters and bustling students. It’s impossible for her to look like she even mildly fits in. Even though her striking appearance could be competition for top models, she seems to repel people. Her long dark tresses fall over her petite shoulders, well defined but thicker eyebrows raised controversially, candy red full lips curling at the corner in a half flirtatious smile. Nothing about her is ordinary. Though her clothes may be from the same, if not cheaper stores than her peers, on her they look couture. Her blue eyes shine in the halogen lights, long curled eyelashes framing them. And yet, people look away.

She’s a disgraced girl, her name whispered through the halls, snide, sneering comments snapping at her heels. She keeps her head high though, she’s no coward. She’s a survivor through and through.

‘If anyone gives you any trouble, Eve, let me know,’ a short, loud-mouthed Somali girl says gently to her.
‘Thanks,’ Eve replies, red smile quivering just a little.
‘Is it true though?’ The short girl asks, curiosity a higher priority than tact.
‘Yeah, it’s true.’ Eve trails off and smiles serenely at the girl, sticks her head high in the air, and walks away.

Three weeks on and the routine is the same. Avoid certain people, keep to the less busy hallways and don’t say a word unless spoken to. Especially not to teachers. Just keep quiet. Eve does this, and for three weeks she quietly keeps her head down. The only person who sticks by her is Laura, who’s frank, honest personality never marvelled at Eve’s exposed secret. She didn’t even ask her any questions about it.

‘Fuck ‘em babe. Seriously, they’re a load of immature dipshits who wouldn’t know what real life is if it smacked ‘em in the gob,’ her torrent of cockney words over spilled, comforting wisdom in Eve’s ears.

Even still, Eve would always know things about that night… about the situation, which no one else would. All they knew were rumours and Chinese whispers, Eve was there, she knew how his hand touched her, how his eyes penetrated her soul, how his dark whispering voice sent trembles through her skin. That was something that only they would know. She could describe everything in her statement; go over and over it while countless people asked her, but no one would fully ever know what it was like for her. Even over a month later, she still scrubbed her skin raw in the shower, hoping it would remove the invisible scars his invasive hands had left on her. To everyone else, she was a whore, a slut, a sket. But in her dark thoughts she knew she was nothing less than the victim of a predator.
It was that one decision though, that left her a Survivor. What if she hadn’t responded to him? What if she hadn’t believed every twisted, menacing word of a lie he spewed? What if she’d never met with him that night? She probably wouldn’t be alive to tell the tale. She’d be another victim, a body on a limitless pile, waiting to be burned to ash.

‘Have you seen the news?’ Phillip ran into the College common room jittering. ‘Turn it on, turn it on, turn it on!’ He shouted.
The large flat-screen on the centre wall of the common room came to life, plumes of smoke and flashing lights of emergency vehicles and fires roared into the room. The students sat and watched with passive horror, but more curiosity. It took a while for the news to digest.
‘What’s happened? Shit that looks bad, man… Was there an explosion somewhere?’ Andre strolled in, surveying the scene.
‘America declared on us,’ Jasmin said hoarsely. ‘We’re at war, but so far they don’t think any other countries are going to help us.’
‘Jesus Christ, not even like Vietnam or something?’ Andre joked.

Peter Richards, the head of the Sixth Form College announced himself by clapping his hands.
‘I need everyone to stay here, in the common room, until further notice. Nobody leaves this building whatsoever. Not through the front or back doors, we all stay in here. Is that clear to everyone?’ He called out, his usually nervous demeanour very stern. Nodding faces met his; they understood it was no joke.

‘We’ve been in here for three fucking hours man, I need a fag!’ Laura sighed and started chewing on the next fingernail.
‘They obviously don’t want us to be out and about in the streets. As long as we keep watching the news to see what’s happening we’ll be fine.’ Eve responded to her friend, consoling herself more than Laura. Laura’s only concern was that she couldn’t smoke, not the possibility of death being a reality.

A noise loomed in the background. It wasn’t anything colossal, nothing that made anyone jump, but everyone was aware of it and instinctively turned around.
‘What was that?’ Kerrie whispered. The crowd of students assembled by the window, looking into the distant landscape. Rapidly, great plumes of black smoke crept upon the building, engulfing any visibility. All went black. A near silent whistling sound dropped from overhead, and chaos erupted.

Screams, cries, groans, cackling of rampant fire, falling debris, rubble shattering to the ground- that was all that could be heard. Eve was trapped, held captive by great chunks of building that blocked her path. She could vaguely see out in to the next corridor from the classroom desk she had sheltered herself behind, but most of it was destroyed.

Nevertheless, frantic and injured students ran through at warp speed. Eve struggled over to the glass door, her leg probably broken. She stared out at the running people and slammed her hands on the glass desperately, her voice made redundant by the noise of commotion all around.

They saw her; they definitely saw her, struggling behind the glass door in desperation. But she was undesirable, marked forever, scarred by scandal. No one wanted to help, they looked the other way. It was their selfishness and her bad judgement with one grave mistake that lead her to Survive, and the rest to perish.



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I woke up with a start, beads of sweat clinging to my hairline. I was back behind the glass door, a memory as clear as yesterday, though it was over two years old. You don’t forget things like that; your brain makes sure of it- so you don’t get too big for your boots.

My roommate Harriett has kindly taken it upon herself to make sure I remember where I left my dirty clothes. She has left them purposefully on the end of my bed, which I am still laying in. How anyone has the audacity to put stuff on someone’s bed whilst they’re still asleep in it, I have no idea. She is nowhere to be seen however, so I can’t confront her yet. She tends to be more of a phantom roommate, but that doesn’t make her any less exasperating. Any irritating instances are escalated by her lack of presence. She’s an infuriating person, but she’s hardly ever around.

It’s been over a week since Tamsin and I shared a secret conversation, but she hasn’t spoken to me since. More to the point, she refuses to speak to me. On more than one occasion I have tried to instigate chit-chat, but she brushes me off with a dark frown.
‘After what we talked about I don’t think we can be friends,’ Tamsin whispered dramatically.

I don’t share her way of thinking. I wonder if we are the only people who have this potentially repugnant idea in mind. I wonder if there’s anyone here who might know any facts, anyone who might have witnessed something. I decide Tamsin is my best bet. She’s my only bet. She’s the only person who has any information as far as my knowledge extends, so presumably she would have checked to see if anyone else here has their suspicions.
I leave my bed, not forgetting to take my pile of dirty clothes and put them back on the floor where I had left them. Around this time in the morning Tamsin will be reaching the fields to start her day’s work. It’s a Thursday, so I have very little to do, and all the time in the world to plague Tamsin about our secret.

I find her wading through high strands of wheat in a pair of faded dungarees, fitting the farm girl image perfectly. It should be Georgia there, red hair looped into two little plaits, freckles sprouting on her nose. Tamsin’s long pale blonde hair flicks me in the face as I stand next to her, looking across the fields. The sky is milky blue and clear of clouds.

‘I told you we couldn’t be friends,’ Tamsin says, refusing to look at me. I’m slightly stunned by her dramatic approach.
‘Tamsin, we’re not in a movie. No one’s going to kill us for talking and no one is listening through the trees. It’s just us out here- and Tim over there,’ I gesture wildly into the distance where deaf old Tim stands, looking up at a tree on the edge of the forest. I’m getting impatient.
‘It’s not that, it’s just that I know what will happen. We’ll develop this obsession over it, we’ll seek clues and try asking people and start snooping around, and no good can come of that. We’ll get ourselves into trouble if we’re friends, and we can’t be friends without talking about it. I’d rather forget I ever told you anything,’ she admitted sadly, her head hanging slightly.

Frustration overwhelms me, I swing around to face her and grip her arms.
‘It felt good though right? It felt good to talk to someone, to get it off your chest. All of that suspense, that big secret, and you could just relieve yourself by talking to someone. What happens next time you see something suspicious or you get more concerned? Will you keep it to yourself and kill yourself with the pressure?
'You can talk to me Tamsin. We both know something now, and like it or not, we’re in this together. As far as we know, we’re the only people that suspect anything. But we could be wrong. What if there’s lots more people here that are thinking the same thing, but they have no idea anyone else shares their thoughts? We have to talk about this. I have to talk about this. I can’t pretend I never heard what you said- this town is dead, nothing happens- and the only remotely juicy thing to talk about is this little secret!’ My face must be beetroot by now from fuming. I watch Tamsin digest my outburst.

‘Okay,’ she says slowly. ‘We can be friends.’
I practically swell with happiness inside, although I’m careful not to let Tamsin see just how much I had riding on her friendship. It wasn’t just the secret, it was companionship.

Back with Noreen and our smaller, less successful colony I didn’t really crave it. I was fine on my own, desperate to survive, clinging from one day to the next. Now everything’s kind of… normal. I feel less rigid, less afraid. I have some freedom in my life for the first time. Eleutheria is twitching through my veins. Though I’m afraid of what consequences the secret Tamsin and I hold may have, I know I can do something about it. There are enough people here to revolt against any wrongdoing. The power is in the people, and I am a person. I am surviving, stronger than ever. And you know what? It feels really, really good.