Day Fifty-Seven, first day of the third month.
It seems my life is based upon hopes. So many turn out to be false, yet still I find myself hoping once again.
It's the first day of the third month, and here I stand, hoping as always, that the Box will bring another human to me. I don't know if it will, but from the day that I first appeared in this place there were three supply trips before Robin came. Now, it is the fourth week since then, and I sit beside the Box, waiting for it to appear.
Honestly, I don't know if my reckoning of time is accurate, because a month is normally more than four weeks. However the glade appears to run on weeks, not months, so I figure four weeks is close enough to a month. I suppose that gives me thirteen months in a year, but never mind.
Two full months I have lived in this glade, and I can barely recall what it looked like before. Without paddocks for animals, or a garden, or my house, or my water-trenches? Now it looks like a home.
I even have a bunch of young apple trees that have sprouted, and I've been filling up free space with an orchard. Plus there are the two trees that came up in the box, which I think are some sort of stone fruit, perhaps nectarines? Last week, I received a crate of oranges, so when their seeds sprout I'll have some citrus trees to plant, too.
My beans are flourishing, both climbing and bush, and it's wonderful to be eating my own produce. It gives me an amazing sense of independence, to be growing even some of my own food. I'll need more than two months to get full sufficiency from my garden, as there are many plants not yet to fruiting, for example the pumpkins are only flowering.
My house is looking great, because I've finished the roof. All my supplies are stacked inside, and I've even been making shelves and racks for the storage of my tools, although the food is still kept within crates.
Speaking of crates, they were the secret behind making the roof. Every week, I get a supply load, all packaged in crates. When I use or put away stuff, I get a lot of wooden planks to use for lighter stuff, being the roof and my shelves. They've made many things, including a shower. It's rather basic, but I have an enclosed room where I can use the bucket fill up a large plastic bag I made, then tip it up and allow the water to escape through holes for an icy shower.
A clanking rattle sounds from somewhere below me, an unknown distance within the Box hole, and I gasp with anticipation as the alarm sounds, announcing the Box's return. The Box is the only way into the glade that I have seen, although who knows if there's another way somewhere in the maze.
Will there be a person within? I find myself expecting one, but I have no way of knowing. Perhaps I was only given one chance? Or perhaps, there will be one coming every month without any relation to my own actions.
The Box ascends out of the dark towards me before coming to a stop with a loud bang, and my heart races with anticipation. Will I meet another person inside the box? Will they be male or female, young or old, tall or short?
If I do meet another person today, I promise I'll not make the same mistake twice. I will not let another person die.
Throwing my lasso of rope over the handle on one of the metal doors, and it opened with a screech of rusty hinges. Opening the other door, I peer into the Box. There is the usual collection of crates, piled against the walls, but also someone sitting against them.
A teenager stands, pale skinned against the shadows of the Box, and stares up at me. His voice only wobbles slightly as he asks, "Who are you?"
I smile as I anchor the rope to the side of the box and throw it down. "I'm Ash. Welcome to the Glade."
He pulls himself out, looking around. "The what?"
"Glade. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Well, I thought so, anyway. Come on, I'd better give you a tour."
He follows along as I show him the garden and the farm. He's quite tall and skinny, like some sort of running athlete. His dark brown, almost black hair is a contrast to his pale skin, almost as pale as mine.
He seems quite composed, like he's almost afraid to let go. Like he's afraid the world will vanish if he turns away.
"How long have you been here?" he asks, the only thing he's said since starting the tour.
I sigh softly. "Two months."
He seems startled by that. "You spent two months in this place? Alone?"
I look away, my good mood gone, and take him to see my house. "Something like that..." I mumble. It would not have been two months alone had I saved Robin. Let's not make it three.
As the day is getting towards an end, I take him to the gardens. He hasn't remembered his name yet, but I find that doesn't matter as I set him to picking beans.
"Come on, Greenie-beanie. There's work to do."
We eat dinner in silence, with it still early enough that the doors haven't shut. After clearing up, I take him to the walls, to show him the doors.
He peers at the window. "What's this for?"
I frown. "I don't exactly know..."
He moves along to the flat stone beside the window. "What's this say? 'Robin'?"
The doors begin to close, and I grip his wrist tight.
"Welcome to the Glade. There's only one rule. Never go out through these doors. You do, you're dead."
