The Truths I’m Hiding

“Untitled” by Clara Coukell

The Truths I’m Hiding by Kennedy McClees

If days were numbered, they surely aren't anymore. It was the year 2167, and in our dust-filled world, we all had adopted a haze and grew comfortable with our simple lives, but those higher up on the social chain weren't satisfied with what we could produce in the short amount of time we were given to live, work, and reproduce. Soon the government had developed a virus to stop humans from aging, and those who hadn’t accepted this “progress” were dealt with. People spluttering that, "every day is a gift" are those that are still hopeful that tomorrow will be different than yesterday. The problem with immortality is that people believe they're still somebody, but they aren't, not really. The body is separate from the mind; the body stays the same, while the mind runs circles in a head that has been empty for decades. 

The way immortality works is that it isn’t what has been done to you, it is what you are. Immortality is alive, and it feeds off of the wide expanse that is the mind, it kills creativity before there is time for an idea to form. Bright side? Our empty brains are more than happy to follow orders given by the government. We are expected to be these perfect robots. After all, they've given us eternal life, why not give up free speech? Or sacrifice those whose bodies do not mold with the virus? We ought to be thankful, right? One step forward, but no steps back? The line is becoming blurred between those who gave us life but also took it away.  

“All districts must report to the cafeteria,” says an officer nearby, jolting me from my thoughts. 

I almost laugh, they’re supposed to protect us, but really they’re only here to keep us in line.  

“Did you not hear me?” the officer shouts in my ear. 

“How could I not?” I mutter, as I roll my eyes. 

A swift punch is delivered to my gut, and I let out a gasp. Stupid, I’m so stupid; the only thing that keeps me safe, is silence and I’ve brought punishment to myself all because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Bright side? I still remember how to talk.  

I shuffle over to the cafeteria, once there, I see my friend, Aden, and sit on the bench beside him. 

“How are you today, Lyra?” he says. And even though I know we are just friends, I can’t help but feel butterflies when he lifts his eyes and looks at me through his long, dark lashes. 

“What do you think?” I answer. 

“Hm, well I’d say that you’re doing well, but I’d be lying,” he laughs. 

“Well then you’d be right,” I announce, as I let out a laugh of my own. 

Aden and I are both 21, but that’s where the similarities end. Where Aden is tall and lean, I am short and round in ways that most girls find painfully unfair. My golden skin, and almost black hair, are a stark contrast to Aden’s pale skin and blonde curls. Nevertheless, we’ve been friends since we were kids, about a decade before the cure for mortality came out. We’ve always been like this, safe, and tucked away from the world inside each other. And though I ache to tell him how I feel, I know there will never be a right time. Bright side? I still know how to feel.  

We eat our breakfast quickly and silently, a few others come and join our table. Nobody speaks unless they’re greeting someone, and even then it is not much more than a nod of their head. It isn’t that we are scared to speak, it’s that we are scared of who is listening. I don’t know what happens to the rebels who try and fail to overthrow the government, and honestly I don’t care. People who still have hope are dangerous, and I don’t want to be looped in with those lunatics. All I can do is keep my head down, I don’t dare lift it because I know I won’t like what stares back at me. 

“Hey, you ok over there?” Aden asks. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, letting out a sigh.  

He doesn’t look convinced, but he already knows that nothing ever will be just fine. 

“I wish I could see inside your head,” he says, as he runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Well, there wouldn’t be much,” I declare, and look over at him. 

“Yes, there would be, there’s so much of you that you keep to yourself, and I can’t be a good friend if I don’t know who my friend is,” he says. 

His words cut deep, deeper than they should, and inside I feel like I’m drowning, but outside my face is just floating in a sea of indifference. 

Aden shakes his head, and then walks off. Now isn’t the time for this conversation, not when everyone can hear us. Bright side? I need a bright side, but there are none. I can feel the tears coming, and I pinch myself hard enough to draw blood to remind myself to get it together. 

I drop my tray off at the designated station and head to the tunnels. The government has had my district working on the tunnels for three years. These underground passages are supposed to be a way to provide easier transport between our murky world and the rest of civilization, and by transport, I mean food. My world is nothing more than dust; nothing grows here and if we hadn’t made the deal with the other society that exists beyond my small world, then we all would’ve starved years ago.  

Every district has a set time of when they’re supposed to work and what they’re supposed to be doing, but I had been so upset that I had forgotten to check the schedule. It doesn’t matter though, right now I need out, I need a place to pick up all my broken pieces and force them back together. As I’m storming off to the tunnels, I hear voices and I stop. 

“Are you sure about this?” a voice says. I stop breathing, because I know that voice, it’s Aden. 

“Of course, there’s nobody even down here but us,” another voice says. 

“I’m going to check again, I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Aden declares. 

I look around the corner just in time to see Aden walking towards where I’m hidden, with a device in hand. 

Run, my brain screams, but my body is paralyzed. I know that whatever Aden is doing he left me out of it for a reason, but why? We had promised to stay hidden together; we weren’t going to cause trouble so that we could remain together, a duo, something that has always worked between us. But now he’s in the tunnels, somewhere he has no business being, and talking with this nameless person that I’ve heard nothing about. 

I’ll let him find me, I want him to find me, so that he can see that I’m obviously not the only one keeping secrets. As he rounds the corner and sees me, he stops, panic quickly consumes his face. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he says, and looks at me accusingly. As if I’m the one who has been sneaking around. 

“I could ask you the same question,” I counter.  

His friend comes around the corner and I get my first look at him. He’s got jet black hair and features that scream that he is up to no good. 

“Shoot,” he says, and swears about five more times. 

“What do we do, Jace?” Aden asks. 

“There’s nothing we can do, either she swears to join the Resistance, or she dies,” Jace says, and winks at me, “your choice sweetheart.” 

So Aden is part of the Resistance? 

I thought it was us against the world, but now he wants to save the whole world. The betrayal feels like a kick in the teeth, but I tell myself that I will endure, no matter how much it hurts, not even if it means tearing myself apart but still playing the part. Because that’s what I do, I’m the only one who fixes my broken pieces, and for right now, I just need to get out of this situation before all of my bits are blown apart. 

“She’ll do it, Lyra will take the oath,” Aden says, without even looking at me. 

“I’m right here, and no, I won’t be taking any oath,” I announce, still angry. 

Jace smirks at me as he pulls out what I think is some sort of weapon. 

“We aren’t killing her, alright?” Aden barks at Jace.  

“Alright! I won’t kill her, but Maven isn’t going to be happy about this, and I can’t guarantee that she’ll be safe from the other members,” Jace states. Aden and Jace share a knowing look and before I can register that Aden has moved closer to my side, I feel Jace move to stand behind me as he places a foul smelling cloth over my mouth. My first instinct is to lash out with my arms and legs, but my body won’t fight the way my brain always does. My eyelids flutter frantical and I feel the kiss of my eyelashes brushing against my cheeks as I fall to the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, Lyra,” Aden whispers. My brows furrow and my forehead painfully creases into a knot, and for the third time today, I feel my eyes filling with steamy tears of anger and confusion. I let the water flow freely from my eyes. I want Aden to see how hurt I am, how much I hate him right now, and how sorry I am that he felt that he had to keep this from me. When I get out of this, and I will, my relationship with Aden will be reassessed, but for now I’m allowing myself to trust him this last time and believe that no harm will come to me for the time being, and with that, I finally close my eyes.  

I wake to the stench of blood and the sound of screams. I check myself for cuts, bruises, and other injuries. My head still feels foggy, and my pants are dirtied and torn, but otherwise I seem to be fine. Finally, I take in my surroundings, I am in a type of cell with no windows, no food or water, and no way out. I see a dark shadow leaning on the wall outside my cell, its outline is tall and lean. 

“Aden? What’s happening? Why am I locked up?” I ask. The shadow says nothing, and annoyance and anger ignite inside of me, curling and stirring deep in my stomach. Bright side? This place is so far underground that nobody will be able to hear the rage I am about to unleash. But then again, rage might just be another form of truth, a feeling so pure and strong that it acts as a truth serum. 

“Fine. don’t answer me. I’m only your best friend, the person who stuck by you even when it killed me to see you flirting with the girls from other sectors. Even when I saw you sacrificing yourself for everyone, your family, your friends, this lunatic group!” I huff. 

“ Everyone! Everyone, but me. The person who has loved you silently all these years, the person who tried to be more than what they are, who tried to mold to your radical ways, the one person who would give up everything, the safety, the comfort of stability, my family,” my voice breaks, “just so that I could be the one to make you happy.” 

“But you’d rather risk your life, than spend it with me,” I whisper. 

Aden begins to clap, a slow, deliberate, mocking clap. His shadow moves away from the wall and into the light, and I am filled with horror because whoever this is, they’re not Aden.  

“I must say, I really wasn’t sure if we should take more recruits, but after hearing your delightful little speech, I’m convinced we could use a fighter like you,” says the approaching figure.  

He’s tall, broad shouldered, brown-skinned, and muscular, with sharp facial features. I'm still studying him when he opens his sensual mouth and speaks again. 

“Seeing as you have no choice, welcome to the resistance! Cowardice brings death, pain builds a soldier, and love makes fools of us all.” 

“Oh, my name is Maven by the way, and I’ll be the torturous hand that guides you through training, or slits your throat if you even think about deserting,” he states matter of factly. 

I glare at Maven, even though I know there’s no point. I can’t wiggle my way out of this one, nor do I necessarily want to. I’m now realizing that I have a chance to leave my old life behind, and learn who I am when I’m not constantly hiding, cowering, or chasing after Aden. I’ve never been good with change, but I imagine nobody is, there’s always a cliff around the next corner, and there are those who are deterred from crossing, or those who are propelled forward by their fear. The truths I’m hiding are dangerous, because I don’t think I am either of those types of people- I won’t back down, nor will I push my way through. Instead I will find another way, because fear is not my motivator, love is, and if that makes me a fool, then so be it. 

I gently nod my head at Maven and dial my glare down a bit. 

“Let's begin,” Maven says.