CHAPTER 2

Jennifer

That bastard! Was it too much to ask to not let Clay risk his life every day, like I know he was doing for his slimey friend Wilson, who only had a shift once a week.

I took a drag from my cigarette. A bad habit I had picked up after it had happened. We're not allowed to smoke, but I found a pack in Chris' office once. Figures he'd break his own rules.

My mind was racing while I was fighting the memories that were threatening to consume me again. 'I won't let this break me again,' I whispered, looking around guiltily. Luckily, the dining area was deserted except for Rosie who was tending the bar doing.. nothing, actually.

I put out the cigarette and got up to leave as I heard footsteps approach.

'Oh, er, hi mom,' Clay said, obviously surprised I was here. He was shifting his gaze and looked very uncomfortable.

Every time I saw him, it hit me how fast time is passing by, like the earth couldn't wait to expose him to the cruelty that is adulthood. I was happy he looked so much like me, with his messy dark auburn hair that was effortlessly in place. His green, almond shaped eyes, the only evidence of his father being the gray spots within. His build was not due to my genes, though, with me only being 5'3" and him well over 5'9". But there was one thing that made it unmistakable that he was my son: his small mouth, capable of forming a wide grin, one he would wear most of the time. But not now, he was biting his lip, a tic he most definitely got from me.

'What's wrong?' I immediately asked. He raised his eyebrow – something he does so often I sometimes wonder if his face is permanently stuck that way.

'Nothing, I, er, just wondered what that was all about.. back in the Overseers office…' he mumbled, looking at the ground.

I tried to keep my face neutral. 'Sorry about that, I got a little agitated. I just can't believe you're on watchmen duty.' My heart was beating too fast and my face felt flustered.

'Well, why not? I mean, if everyone has to do it, why shouldn't I?' Clay hesitated, contemplating. 'Also.. please don't be mad, but I heard you guys arguing.' I swallowed, willing my nerves to calm down. Please don't ask. Please don't.

He continued, 'What did Chris mean by "what happened"?'

My heart sank. And there came the lies. 'He's talking about your father. I just can't believe you have to be a watchmen after the way your father failed.'

And there came the tears, not crying over my story, but still flowing over another memory. One I could never, ever tell Clay.

'Chris, what are you doing here? It's nearly one a.m.'

That's what I still remember: it being nearly one in the morning. I had just lost both of my parents because of a raid, so lying awake at night wasn't unusual for me. I still wonder if he knew that. If that's the reason he picked me.

The second thing that hit me was his eyes, then his smell. We're only allowed to drink alcohol on special accessions, but he was most definitely drunk.

His small gray eyes hazy and scanning the room, observing. The silence scared me.

'What do you want, Chris?' He said nothing, just stumbled over to my bed where I was lying in my underwear. It was too hot to sleep under the covers, but to this day I still regret the absence of a cover, something to hide under.

I don't know if that had helped, but I regret not doing so. I regret a lot.

I regret that I still know all the details, like the way he smelled my hair, his pointy nose close to my ear.The way I was petrified, unable to move or speak coherent sentences. To feel like I was outside of my body, yet very present. The way he had sighed, nauseating me with his breath, when it was over. The silent tears streaming down my face. The pain I felt, not only physical, but emotional as well. And the way I lay awake the entire night, unable to do anything but cry, until my tears had ran dry. And the way I felt when I found out that this event would haunt me the rest of my life, both in my mind as before my eyes, for I had conceived a beautiful baby boy.

'Mom? Are you okay?' Clay's voice snapped me back to reality. His worried face squeezed my heart even more. I tried to pull myself together.

'Yes, honey, I'm sorry. It's just hard,' I tried to smile, but I'm sure it wasn't more than a grimace. 'Sorry. I'm sure you'll be alright. You're a tough one.' Clay's face brightened a little.

'Yeah, you don't have to worry about me, mom. Besides, there hasn't been a breach in months.'

I nodded. 'You're still my baby - don't roll your eyes at me, you are - So I worry about you. But I should get back to the medical room, see if anybody needs anything.' Another lie, but I wanted to be alone very much.

'Be careful, hon.' And with that I left, wiping the tears from my face.