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I have set myself the challenge of participating in this years NaNoWriMo competition: that is to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. I do intend to finish the novel, and I really hope I can do it before November 30th.
The title is: My Sister's Keeper. I have included chapters one and two here. I will be endeavouring to upload every two days, depending on my schedule.
CHAPTER ONE
Everything was quiet now. It had been quiet for several hours. Ruby knew it wouldn't last. It never did. There had been fighting going on in her area for many months now. It hadn't seemed to produce any result for any of the sides fighting. But slowly – bit by bit – the neighbourhood had been torn apart. Where once apartment buildings stood, overlooking tree lined streets, now there was concrete shells that were slowly beginning to replace them.
A lot of people had left already. Ruby wondered where they all went. Where do people go when they are stuck in a war zone? No one knew. And if they did no one was telling Ruby. She was going nowhere. She had no choice, her mother and her sister were her only means of support. Whilst her mother chose to stay then this would remain her home. But Ruby knew that it couldn't stay that way forever. Eventually they would have to find somewhere else to go. Maybe the same unknown place everyone else goes.
They had survived from the support of those around them. Ruby would often be sent to collect the families rations from the local support centre. Why do they bomb everything but not this place? Ruby wondered. What was to be gained by frightening everyone in their homes, teasing them like little trapped animals, but allowing them to receive their provisions for another week? Was there any logic behind any of these warring parties actions? If there was then Ruby couldn't see it.
It was that time again that Ruby needed to make another attempt at reaching the supply station. It wasn't too far from her apartment, but in a war zone, small distances become irrelevant. She knew the route, having travelled it many times over the last several months. It was on these weekly escapes into the outside world that showed her the rate of destruction. Ruby's world was deteriorating; she watched it every week. Noticed how fewer people were making the same journey. War was never kind to anybody, and this war was no exception. She remembered how her father was one of the first to die. They never told Ruby the details; she was too young to truly understand the horror of what he went through. That's what they told her. But she wasn't too young to be trapped in a war zone. In other people's war, enduring their fighting. But too young to know the truth, it would seem. She wanted to know. She asked her mother many times, but each time she was told “it's for your own good.” She eventually stopped asking. But she felt the dread inside. That never stopped. No one could take that away from her; what would happen to Ruby and her sister if their mother should die? What then? The fear stayed with her, consumed her. She felt it most on her trips to the supply centre.
“Hello Ruby, it's good to see you.” Anastasia said, greeting her. She had worked for the charity organisation that ran the supply centre for the whole time Ruby had been going there. She liked Anastasia, her warm smile, her pretty eyes, and long black her. Ruby wanted to be like her. When I grow up, she would tell her self, I want to be beautiful like her. She's always so happy – is that because she is helping people? Ruby thought of her as an older sister. Ruby smiled, and threw her arms around Anastasia.
“I missed you,” Ruby said.
“I missed you too. A week can be a long time in this place. Wondering about everyone.” Anastasia replied. “How is everyone? How is your mother doing?”
“She's okay, she's tired. I think she wants to get away from here. But I don't know where we would go. Do you know where people go when they leave?” Ruby had always been hesitant to ask this question. This place was her home, it was the known. It was becoming more and more unpleasant every day, but it's what she knew. What if other places were worse? What then? The unknown frightened her.
“They try to get to the camps near the coast.” Anastasia censored her reply. She didn't want to frighten Ruby, but she knew many people who left never made it to the camps. There were so many obstacles in the way. So many people like Anastasia were trying to assist the refugees along the way, but everyone was overwhelmed. And she couldn't frighten a child with these facts. She didn't like lying to Ruby. War, she thought, changes us all.
“How long does it take to get there?”
“It can take a couple of weeks. Sometimes less. Before the war, if you had a car, then you would get there in a few hours.” Anastasia feared the inevitable. She feared knowing that Ruby would have to take the dangerous journey to the camps. The camps were safer than this war zone around them, but they were still a jungle, a throbbing mass of humanity. They were still not safe for a child.
Anastasia handed Ruby her bag of supplies. There was still a water source in her building. She was grateful that at least she didn't have to haul back heavy containers of water. But they helped out with the basics. Bread, rice, and some perishables. They had a working generator in their building. Electricity was intermittent these days. Sometimes she had a light to read, to try to escape the world around her. But not always.
She knew it wouldn't be long; soon she too would be marching to the camps. The war had crept slowly towards their neighbourhood. Towards their building. And the soldiers didn't discriminate between each other and civilians. It would only be a matter of time before they had no electricity at all. Or no working generator. Or even worse – no water. Ruby knew they couldn't survive long with no water. She had read that in one of her father's books, one of the few that they still had.
“What happens when the people get to the camps?” Ruby asked. “Where do they go then?”
Anastasia considered her words. The war had been so unkind to these people, she thought. To survive is a gift, but without hope, what point is survival? She didn't want to lie to Ruby, but she knew she needed to skirt certain truths. “The authorities start processing people. To see who stays and who can leave, for somewhere safer. As a child you would have a very good chance of being chosen, with your mother.”
“Where do they go? The people they pick.”
“To the colonies. On Mars.”
CHAPTER TWO
Ruby carried the parcel of supplies and made her way back to her apartment. She had several streets to travel, and despite the short distance involved she knew the dangers. It was light, which meant there would still be a few people around. Scurrying about, or sheltering in building foyer areas. But knowing that there was still some life around made her feel safer. She walked close to the buildings, away from the middle of the streets. She could still remember how these streets all looked before the war. It hadn't been that long ago. She was old enough to have seen these streets, to have walked them, and played in them. She missed the trees that used to line both sides. The bright green leaves that framed Ruby's world. Now there was just grey, in many shades. No tree was left still alive. A few stumps, but no colour. No leaves.
She reached her building and climbed the stairs to her floor. The third floor; high enough to be able to see the world below but still appreciate the detail. They had a small apartment. Most of the apartments in her building were small. A few large ones were up on the top floors, but Ruby didn't want to have to travel all those stairs. Even if the owners had left. Or died. She never did find out what had happened to the others in her building. There were still some families remaining; holding out. Hoping for the war to end, so they could return to normal. But hope was fading, and Ruby knew it. She could see it on the faces of those around her. She could hear it in Anastasia's voice. Anastasia always told Ruby more than anyone else, but she knew she was hiding things. Things a child wasn't supposed to know. It's not her fault, Ruby thought. I know she does what she thinks is best for me. I just wish things could go back to the way they were. She reached her door, and knocked.
Her mother opened it. “Hi Momma!” Ruby handed her the parcel of supplies. “I saw Anastasia.”
“How is she?” her mother asked her, wheezing as she did so.
“What's wrong Momma?” Ruby had previously noticed her mother show some signs of exhaustion, but now she could hear her having difficulty breathing. She tried to stay strong for her mother, but the sound frightened her.
“It's nothing Ruby. I'll be okay, you'll see.” Her mother tried to reassure Ruby, and she wanted to be reassured. She tried to accept the words as truth. But she knew she wasn't being told the whole story. Ruby chose not to push her, but to keep an eye on her, quietly.
“Okay. I just got scared.”
“I know, it's okay. We'll be okay. I promise.” Ruby loved her mother; she loved her efforts to sooth her through all these turbulent times. But she knew that was a promise her mother couldn't keep. Not here, where everything was spiralling out of control.
“So tell me, how was Anastasia?” Ruby could hear her mother suppressing her breathing difficulties, but said nothing.
“She looked beautiful, like she always does. She seemed happy. Does helping people make you happy? How else could you be happy in this place?”
“She's always been very helpful. We are very lucky to have the charity there to help us.”
“What would happen to us if they weren't there?” Ruby asked.
“It's too much to think about. It would be so much harder.”
“Would we have to leave? To the camps?”
“Who told you about the camps?” Ruby's mother had tried to keep her focused on issues other than the outside world. There were camps, but they weren't necessarily the answer to their problems. Perhaps just the next step in a potentially never ending procession of broken hopes and dreams.
“Anastasia told me, when I asked her where people go.”
“What else did she tell you?” Her mother wondered what Ruby knew. She wanted to protect her, not deny her knowledge. But so much knowledge these days was too dark and frightening for a child. Like the fact that half the world was at war. Ruby was too young to comprehend this. Or the fact that millions of people had died from all the destruction over the last few years. There was no safe place left on Earth, that she knew of. Things may have changed whilst she was cut off from outside news sources. But she doubted it. Mars was where they sent people. And not very many people. Life for every body else was hell. At least here they were in their own home. Yes it was hell, but their hell, not someone else's.
“Only that some people get chosen to go to Mars.”
“Try not to think about it Ruby,” her mother said. “It's not an easy journey to get to the camps. And I doubt it's an easy journey to get to Mars. For now it's easier to stay here.”
“Okay Momma.” Ruby helped her mother unpack the supplies. “Where's Emma?” Ruby asked, referring to her sister Emerald.
“She's in the front room, reading.” They didn't have much else they could do but read. Ruby and her sister would sometimes go through the abandoned apartments looking for things they could use. Mostly books, and old photographs. To remember how things were. To understand how things work.
Ruby walked towards the front room. Her apartment consisted of only four rooms. Two bedrooms, one of which was the front room where Emerald was. A living room and kitchen, And their small bathroom. It was all still intact. No glass had broken, although they had a large crack in one of the windows. There were building only a few blocks away that had all their glass broken. Another block from there and the buildings themselves had holes in the wall, debris laying throughout. This destruction had been on a slow creep towards their neighbourhood; towards their apartment. Do the camps get bombed? Ruby wondered.
“What are you reading?” Ruby asked her sister.
Emerald showed her the book, “it's about birds. There's lots of pictures in here. I didn't know there were so many different types of birds.”
“Do you remember the one that used to fly to our window ledge?” Ruby asked, remembering the time, several months earlier, when one of the last birds left – at least that is how it seemed to Ruby looking back – would visit them. They'd leave the window open for it, but it never came inside. But Ruby and her sister marvelled at the sight of it, and it's song. And every day it would bring it's song to them. Until one day it just stopped showing up.
“Yes, I miss him,” Emerald said. “I should try to find him in here. See what type he was.”
Ruby had not seen any other birds around since. Not down at her level. Occasionally she saw a large bird flying over head; she would marvel at it, and it's graceful movements. And wonder why they didn't fly away from here. Somewhere safer, somewhere nicer. Like Mars. Can birds fly to Mars, Ruby thought. I wish I could fly to Mars.
This fiction is my own work, written for Steemit
Image Credit: Pixabay.com and Unsplash.com
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