Desert Children (Killjoys)

Introduction

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My name is Adelaide. The only thing I knew was my home on the outskirts of Los Angeles. The small attic room with the small window and the small bed had become my only home. Sometimes I dreamed about it on the humid nights before the nightmares started. I would wake up with sweat pouring down my face and I conjured the memory of the room again and again until it was almost real. My last night, though, I did not conjure the memory. Instead, I sat up in my creaky bed in my shared apartment in the poor parts of Battery City. I crept quietly out of my dark room and into the dirty bathroom that I shared with another girl.

The other girl had never really talked to me. All I knew is that she was usually still out in the dark alleys selling her body for extra BLI pills to keep her high. The orphans like us who have no inheritance or family were left to scavenge in the city. We were seen as scum with medicine forced down our throats to keep us from becoming like the outsiders - the ones who live outside the city.

The ones outside the walls are known as killjoys. I'm not exactly sure where they got their name from. But they are seen as anarchists. If one finds themselves caught in the open, they are killed or as the Draculoids like to call it, Exterminated. Exterminated as if they are vermin. They live outside of the perfect world that BLI built for the ones who are brainwashed by the luxuries. The Killjoys came out of the most unexpected places. They seeped through the walls of the city and into the desert. I could see wanted posters plastered on the walls of the brick alley through the bathroom window. The black and white faces on the poster didn't smile, and neither did I.

There, in the bathroom with the only light being a disgusting blue glow coming from BLI brand daylight bulbs, I stared into the eyes of the dark figures in the posters. I met eyes with each one. We exchanged no words. Just thoughts. And I saw in their eyes - not a blank and lifeless look - but pure fiery passion and anger. I felt the anger within me, too. My fists clenched and I turned to the mirror to replace their faces with mine. I saw that same passion and anger within myself. My greasy hair and dark circles reminded me of the crumbling mess that I had become. I lived by the same rules and the same schedule everyday. I lived by their standards. 

I stood in the bathroom for a long time and tried to avoid looking back at myself in the mirror. More and more everyday I had noticed that I didn't recognize myself anymore. I had become just a soul trapped inside a carcass of a human. 

Just another kid forced to grow up too soon.

My soul wanted out of its shell.

I clenched my jaw and stormed back into my room. I could hear the floorboards squeaking loudly with every footstep and groaning when I forced myself down to look around under my bed for my backpack. 

I used to use the white bag for school at the local high school BLI had put in place, but I had gotten myself sent out on a temporary suspension after I "caused a disturbance in class" which was a "violation of the rules". I couldn't believe they even gave me a chance considering how cruel they were to those who broke any kind of law. I knew tonight would leave me with no second chances if I were caught. 

I dumped the contents of my school bag onto the floor and began to fill the bag with various belongings that I had smuggled into the city long ago after the wars. It wasn't much.

I found myself looking at the oversized bag and realizing that my school ID permanently attached to the bag also contained a tracker. I groaned and emptied the bag once more. In my dark closet, a worn bag sat in the corner. It wouldn't hold any of the personal items from my school bag if I put in food and water. I would have to leave everything behind except for the necessities.

I was able to get out of the apartment without too much trouble. I kept my head down, letting my hair create a veil between me and the world outside. I slipped soundlessly through alleyways and through empty streets. I found it to be almost too easy. No one had called to say that I was out after hours. No one on security had seen me walking. I was very, very alone. I had been alone this whole time but then, on the street, I really felt it.

The security terminals were empty, but from within the tunnel I could hear an alarm. Loud enough to make me jump and hurt my eardrums. It suddenly hit me that I was attempting to leave the city. This was it. I could keep going or turn back. I could go back to the endless loop in my apartment building or possibly fry like an egg out in the desert. I made my choice.

I picked up my speed and began to run. I was reaching the first glass terminal where an alarm blared through a speaker from within. The back door to the terminal was open and a puddle of red, sticky liquid had begun to drip out from within. A dead Draculoid's brains had been blown out all over the control panel inside of the glass box. He was unnaturally slouched in his chair -- Dead. Whoever had done this didn't realize that they had also saved a stupid girl from getting caught trying to escape. They had made a way out.

I gagged and tried to make sure I didn't puke in the tunnel. Someone would come across my throw up and would be able to identify me from just my emptied stomach. I saw Forensic Files. I knew how it worked in their favor. I couldn't leave any trace of myself behind in the tunnel. I picked up my pace, jogging past the next security terminal where another guard lay dead. He was sprawled across the inside of the terminal. But I didn't let it slow me. I was now aware of the fact that my freedom was the smell of dead bodies. My freedom was the burning in my lungs from lack of exercise. My freedom was the first breath I took of the unfiltered air outside the city walls and the stars shining on in the sky. They weren't aware of what was happening. They were already dead up there in their own vast wasteland.

Just like me.