Work Text:
After only a few weeks, Tyler had settled in nicely. It was easy to get used to how things were here, as drab as it was, when he wasn’t in survival mode. He didn’t have to forage or hunt for his next meal, hoping that the fire built to cook it or keep him warm didn’t attract anyone, nor traverse the lands outside through the unforgiving weather without a map or path to follow.
It was easy to eat whatever was served to him on his tray in the cafeteria, easy to follow his block to work and let his mind quiet for a while as he did the same thing day in and day out, easy to fall asleep when light out happened.
The routine was expected, no surprises, no deviation.
So much so, he almost forgot what it was like outside the walls, in the unknown. He had heard whispers amongst his block of someone who had left, they didn’t hear from them again. Tyler had thought about sharing that he had been outside, had seen the ocean, the forest, the sky and the stars, but when the guards walked past and scolded the conversation, he felt it best not to.
The next day, Tyler woke up to the sudden hum of the electricity being turned back on. It was something he had tried to share with those he ate with, but they looked at him like he had grown another head when he asked if they heard it too. The lamp on his desk glowed, flickering briefly as another block’s electric was restarted. He must have stayed up too late the night before.
He looked out of his window, down at the street, empty yet besides the morning fog. The sky was cloudy as it always was. He couldn’t tell if it was raining or not yet. He supposed it didn’t matter; it was bound to rain at some point today.
The line to the bathroom on the floor was as long as it always was. Tyler held his toiletry bag close, waiting behind his neighbor. His eyes felt heavy, as if he didn’t sleep long enough. Had he gotten much sleep? He wasn’t sure.
Breakfast in the cafeteria was bland. He thought about skipping out, but what would he do in the meantime? He sat next to his neighbor, took his pills and drank his juice. The biscuits and gravy on his plate were cold and slimy. The low hum of electricity behind the murmur of conversation was ever present.
Work was the same repetitive task. He didn’t question what it was for or why he was doing it. He just stood a few feet from his neighbor, sorting items into their spots for later cleaning and use. Their lunch break was short, lunch sacks waiting for them with their names on it in the cafeteria.
Dinner was a choice. Option 1 or Option 2. Option 2 looked hot, so Tyler went with it. Sometimes after dinner, there would be prayer, sometimes games, sometimes nothing. Tyler liked the games.
When it was time to retire to their rooms for the night, Tyler wondered if he dreamed about running through the woods to escape, ducking into caves at night to hide, hoping his fire would only keep him warm and not alert anyone to his location.
He took out his notebook and jotted down some notes, some lines that came to him. Unsure what they meant but sure he didn’t want to forget. The light at his desk turned off with a sudden snap, the power to the block cut for the night. He put his notebook back into his desk drawer and laid in bed, sleep coming fast.
The next day, Tyler awoke to the sudden hum of electricity as it was returned to the block. The light on his desk glowed, he must have forgotten to turn it off last night. He looked out of his window, the morning fog and the clouds. He waited in line for the bathroom, for breakfast and lunch and dinner. He sorted. He prayed and he wrote. He slept.