A thick grating sound filled Gardenia's ears. Her eyes shot open, shooting pain deep into her skull. The urge to scream filled her but she didn't have the strength. She felt trapped, pinned to the ground, a huge weight on her chest. Her head pounded. When her eyes focused, herself ignoring the pain, she stared out into darkness, barely a light on the wall. She couldn't move her limbs both in exhaustion but as some of them were pinned.
Her eyes burned. Something was blinding them, a powerful source of light pointed at them. She shut her eyes, unable to shut out the light. She closed them tighter, shooting pain into her skull. Her head rolled forward slowly, her neck creaking and flaring up the sore areas deep in her shoulders. A high, raspy groan came from deep in her worsened throat, the only gasp of pain she would allow herself.
Finally, Gardenia forced her eyes open. A flashlight was shining directly at her. When she moved her head away, looking around the beam of light that subsequently moved, she could see a tall, dark figure, stepping around the wreckage. The figure was a much more filled in, masculine figure, a stark contrast to Mars' thin and wiry one. Gardenia stared ahead blankly, watching him, no surprise, fear or desperation in her eyes. Her whole body was too sore to fight through the wreckage. A foul stench rose up from her, filled with blood and sweat, dirt and debris. She felt like she had been awake for several days.
The man lowered his flashlight, stooping down over Gardenia. His features seemed to have no discernable detail to them; his strongest feature was his brow, and it seemed to be furrowed with concern. His flashlight powered off in his hands with a click as he got closer, leaning in to look at the wreckage, where Gardenia was buried.
A loud, crashing sound came from behind the wreckage. A young man was stepping through a doorway, flashlight scanning the room quickly and landing on the man closest to Gardenia and triggering the reflective bands on his vest. Quickly, he stepped around the wreckage to get the light fully onto the man and Gardenia, then focusing in on Gardenia.
"Shit…" the young guy stammered, quickly stepping over the wreckage and back to the doorway. His clumsy footsteps tore through the hall and made clattering noises. His voice rose sharply as he shouted. "We've got another one!" he shouted. "We've got another one! Back here! Back room!"
"We've got dinner for you here dear… We made some roast beef, bit of broccoli, some mashed potatoes… Sweet potatoes… Oh," the lady paused, smiling through pursed lips, "you're going to love it, dear."
Gardenia seemed to stumble over her feet, instead walking stiffly with her feet set wide apart. Her whole body moved slowly, struggling, just trying to stay upright. She walked like it was her first time on unsure legs. The arm around her backside from the woman beside her helped her up but kept her moving, and Gardenia kept her arm around her shoulder, keeping herself upright with all her might.
The woman was older, likely middle-aged, her hair pulled back in curlers as she had when she was in bed. She wore an apron over her bathrobe, a bit of food still on it from the haste in which she had put together the food.
The two approached the end of the dark hallway, stepping out into the light of the kitchen. A white wood table sat in the center of the kitchen with the main light for the room hanging over it. The chair opposite the two had a plate prepared in front of it, overflowing with food; everything the lady had said on it. In the corner of the plate was a tall pile of white mashed potatoes, a single, perfect slice of butter atop it, with a heap of broccoli beside it, simmering in its own juices that rose up through the pile. A thick slab of beef took over the whole left side of the plate, leaking brown and bright orange juice that pooled in the plate. Leaning on the beef was a stack of sliced sweet potato chunks, stacked like chips on a poker table.
A loud, shrill creak snapped Gardenia's focus. The woman took the large wood chair that faced the plate, gripping the two posts that made up either side of the back and dragging sharply, sliding it out from beneath the table. The woman hastily grabbed a rag from the counter, wiping off the chair seat and then placing a cushion down on the chair that had been perfectly cut for it. She patted it, looking up at Gardenia expectantly.
Gardenia placed her hands on the tabletop edge, sliding herself over gently, feeling her legs weaken beneath her as she bent her legs to slide around the chair. She ignored the sharp pain in her knees as she sat in the chair, easing herself into it at her own pace. She breathed a sigh of relief, sliding the chair forward ever so easily, leaning forward on the chair. She stared down at her meal through tired eyes.
The woman set down a wire basket filled with napkins in the center of the table. In front of it she slid a salt shaker and a pepper shaker, then slid the whole thing closer to the plate. Underneath Gardenia's plate she tucked a napkin, then rested a fork and knife.
A tall, white pitcher rocked the table as it was set down, and a tall plastic glass rested beside it. The woman poured a cup, placing beside Gardenia's plate. She then sat beside Gardenia, the chair she pulled out facing out from where it normally faced the table, her body facing Gardenia when she sat. Her arm rested, elbow on the table, giving her a chance to rest her head. She stifled a yawn with her other hand, staring down at Gardenia's plate and then back up at her.
"I don't know a single young person, boy or girl, who'd want to eat after going what you went through… But you've got to eat, now, your body needs it… You've slept for 16 hours, girl…"
Gardenia continued to stare at her plate. As her eyes traveled to the knife and fork, her shaking hand reached up and grabbed for the fork, picking it up and sliding it her fingers at a snail's pace. After a moment of holding her fork at the edge of the plate, she slid the plate around , putting the beef on the right side with her right hand. She stuck her fork into the edge of the beef, starting to reach for the knife but instead feeling the teeth of her fork tear through the stringy beef, almost melting away. Gardenia pulled it away and slid it into her mouth, her mouth closing and chewing weakly. She took a deep snort of air, deeply impressed and taken with a flavor that wasn't her own blood. Inspired by the little bite she had taken, she started at the rest of the cut of beef, taking larger bites, her body suddenly aware of how hungry it was.
Smiling, the woman stood up, walking to the far end of the kitchen, leaving Gardenia to eat. She sighed, flipping open the plastic lid of the coffee machine and resting it on the wall behind it. In a drawer beneath the counter, the woman pulled up a box, gritting her teeth as she slid out a paper filter. She then hid the box, sliding the filter out on the round slot atop the coffee machine. A metallic bag of coffee grounds came onto the counter as well. After using the measuring cup hidden inside the bag, the woman poured in the coffee ground into the machine, closing it. She slid a hollow glass pot underneath the plastic spout, getting the necessary water and hooking up the machine to the wall.
Gardenia had caught herself staring. After a moment, she turned her head over her shoulders, looking down at her plate. Her fork was held upright in her hand, and her hand curled into a fist beside the plate. After a moment, she took a deep breath, and then picked up the plate into her hand, lifting it with her arm. She held it close to her mouth, taking the fork and holding it close to the base, putting her thumb just before the teeth. She scooped the broccoli to the edge of the plate, opening her mouth and shoveling it, filling her mouth.