The Survivors

Chapter 4

A week later we were in the garden weeding. It was at the front of the camp, at the entrance gate. The wind that whistled at us made the electric fence rustle. The sound sounded as if a whip was popping through the air. When I was even younger, I imagined that these were just humming bees. This just seemed more bearable to me. 

I took the small, white plastic shovel that was handed to me and got to work. A PSF distributed heavy work coats that we were allowed to wear during work hours. Then I followed my line up to the heap of earth we had dug the day before and knelt down. The dirt was stuck between my fingernails with the slightest touch as I pulled the carrots out of the ground. 

I wiped the dirt off my sleeves, which made my skin look like it was burned. I bent my fingers, which were already blowing from all the digging. A PSF passed us by and whistled some tune I didn't know. The garden was huge, almost a kilometer long, so more than one supvision was needed here. On his belt hung not only a gun, but also the portable white noise device. 

The white noise was always switched on when something went out of control in the camp. I remembered exactly how I and the others once had to scrub the floor in the dining room because an orange man had ordered one of the soliders to shoot at everyone else. All the blood was on my uniform and hands. At this event, two warning sounds sounded through the loudspeakers, and we all bent and screamed in pain. I had tried with all my strength to hold my ears. 

I always reacted badly to it. No matter where I was.  Every time it sounded, it felt like my ears were exploding through the screaming yelling. The other girls got back on their feet after a few minutes and shook off the nausea and disorientation. But me? It took hours for me to regain control. I always had this ringing in my ear and it felt like half an eternity before the nausea disappeared. 

This time it shouldn't be any different. But it was.

I didn't know who provoked the punitive action. Maybe someone had been so brave or rather stupid and tried to escape. The last attempt was started by a group of reds about two years ago. The result, however, was that they were caught and some barracks were on fire. I've never seen them since that day.

If I have to be honest, I hoped that someone had made my biggest dream come true and threw a rock at one of the PSF's heads. Because it would have been worth it. 

As soon as the two warning signals sounded over the loudspeakers: once briefly, once long, I already bent on the damp ground. 

But the sound coming from the speakers was not a white noise at all. It wasn't this strange siren that sounded like a cat, mashed in a blender and tracted with high current. No! This noise tore every single nerve into my body. It even drowned out the cries of the other children.

Tears flooded my eyes. I wanted to rip the brain out of my head, where the noise has settled. There was a taste of blood and soil on my tounge. Next to me, a couple of girls have already flipped over. Then I also became black in front of my eyes and...silent. 

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I woke up with a bright light and a gentle woman's voice. "Lilli!" The picture in front of me became clearer and clearer, but I still couldn't see anything. My head was booming and I wanted to go back to the land of dreams. 

"Lilli, can you hear me?" When I saw sharply again, I noticed that my arm was tied to the bed. I shook and pulled it all the time until a woman put a wet washcloth on my forehead and gently pushed me back onto the bed.