The view from the Refuge is not a pretty one. It's just she same old city I've been staring at my whole life, smoky skies and filthy streets and all. And yet I look out this window every night, hoping that he will come.
Suddenly, I see a hand reach up and grip the windowsill. I lean out to greet him. Jack rarely looks inside. Instead, he tosses food and clothing in to us.
When the other children see the hand, they push part me to the window, making a ruckus that I know will get us into trouble. I manage to grab hold of a line apple and a pair of pants no doubt too big for me. We'll trade later.
Jack doesn't talk either. He visits us silently, secretly. I'm sure that his silence is the reason he's been visiting us for months without getting caught. This Jack is one slick kid.
But we've all heard stories of the brave Jack Kelley, the only kid to ever escape the Refuge. It's pretty great, actually, knowing that there's somebody out there who knows what it's like to be in here.
I've been in here for a long time. It feels like years, but I know it's only been one. Luckily, I've only had to live through one winter, but the weather is getting colder and colder. And a shared cotton blanket and a single candle won't keep me warm.
I pull the new pants on over my old ones. They are too big, but they're long and they'll provide more warmth. The kids are still crowding around the window, but Jack I'm sure has gone.
Suddenly there are footsteps. Loud ones. Someone shushes the kids at the window, and they run to theirbeds, hearing the sounds.
"Move over, gimp." The older boy sharing my bunk pushes me over to the edge and moves the blanket. I don't have time to remind him that I'm not a gimp before the door bursts open.
I don't need to look to know that Snyder just came up the stairs. I immediately throw my legs over the head of the bed and pretend to be asleep. My heart is pounding as always, but I'm determined not to show it.
"Go to sleep!" I hear him snap his belt in the air before mumbling something under his breath and leaving.
My feet are cold. But it's bearable. Hopefully Jack will bring some socks sometime soon. Or better yet, a rope so we can all get out of here. Pipe dream. Snyder won't let us out. Ever. I whimper, doing all I can to keep in my tears.
"Shut up, gimp!" whispers the boy next to me.
"I ain't a gimp." I mumble back. He sits up, putting his fist under my chin. I stiffen, eyes widen in in fear.
"You is what I say you is. Now shut up and go to sleep."
I obey, laying my head down at his feet and keeping perfectly still. Eventually, my eyes grow heavier and heavier until exhaustion takes over and I sink into sleep.
So, hey. This is my 1st chapter, so obviously, more is coming. Feel free to review!