Alfalfa "Alfie" Fielder, 17.
District 9 Male.
Alfalfa Fielder awoke to the blaring of the PA system outside his door. He peeled his green eyes open with a great deal of effort, meeting only the wooden bottom of the bed above him.
Another day, just like the one before, and just like the one that would follow. Nothing but the same thing every day, the same monotonous routine and existence which brought Alfie nothing but a sense of hopelessness. There was no hope in rotting away in prison, no hope living such a life.
All this for a loaf of bread. How pitiful.
Alfie rolled out of bed, recoiling slightly as he placed his feet on the cold concrete floor. There was no warmth or color here, nothing but drab grey floors and stark white walls. It was lifeless, just as lifeless as Alfie felt. He stretched his aching body out, the too-large jumpsuit the only splash of colour, its faded orange hue somehow still bright against the rest of Alfie's lifeless world.
Padding out of his room and into the hall, Alfie joined the flow of other boys, all of them there for one reason or another, just like him. Their orange jumpsuits blended together, like a sea of orange flowing down the hallway.
Maybe the rest of them could still hold on to hope, but Alfie had already let it slip through his fingers. Maybe the rest of them had a way out, something to look forward to, but Alfie had nothing at all. Nothing but Asphodel, whom Alfie would never see again, even though it was his actions that landed them both in prison in the first place. Despite them not being related by blood, they were still something akin to siblings; after all in a place like District 9's community home, blood relations were a rare thing.
Blood was not always thicker than water, at least not from what Alfie had encountered in his seventeen years of life.
Stepping into the cafeteria, Alfie joined the end of the quickly forming line of boys, all filing up to the front to get their breakfast - or, more correctly, their sorry excuse for a breakfast. Alfie didn't mind, however, as he had never had an abundance of food. He was used to living in a place like the community home where there were so many mouths to feed that he had to take what he could get. The food in prison was slightly better, though not by much, but it was something to get him through the hard work days.
Alfie picked up his tray and carried it carefully to one of the nearby tables. As he ate, Alfie kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with all the other boys. He tended to keep his head down and keep to himself, out of and away from all of the things that happened with the others. There were fights fairly regularly, boys joining gangs within the prison for one reason or another, reasoning that Alfie never understood. Many of them added time to their sentences because they fought or aheldonto illicit items, and for what? What was the point? Didn't they want to get out of here? Didn't they have something or somebody to see outside of this place? Alfie didn't know, but he figured everyone else was bound to have something - or someone.
Finishing his breakfast, Alfie took the now empty tray back to the front of the cafeteria, dropping it off in the pile of other trays. He made his way out of the cafeteria through the drab hallways towards the front of the building, towards the doors to the fields on the prison's property. He didn't have to work if he didn't want to, but if he wanted to get a chance at getting Asphodel out sooner, then it was what he would do. It was his fault she was in prison, his fault she'd been ripped away from her sister after already having to leave her home District. And so Alfie would do anything in his power to get her out, to get her back to her sister.
It was all over something as trivial as a loaf of bread. He only stole it so they'd have more to eat- after all, the kids from Twelve were treated horribly compared to the Nines like Alfie. He couldn't just stand by and let this happen. They were people too, even if they came from somewhere else; they still deserved a decent level of human decency, and a decent amount of food. But he hadn't just done what he did all by himself; no, the second time Asphodel had helped him, distracting the baker so he could steal the second loaf of bread. Alfie wished he'd just done it once and stopped there, but he'd gotten cocky, thinking he could get away with it again.
And he was wrong. After all, actions have consequences no matter how small they may seem.
Alfie stood in the small holding room, waiting for a few of the other boys who were willing to work to show up, each taking up a place against the wall as they slowly trickled in. They were much like Alfie, the kind of people who simply kept to themselves, kept their heads down and just wanted to get out of prison. He could probably befriend a few of them if he wanted to, but he didn't particularly care to attach himself to anybody new anytime soon.
As soon as the clock on the wall struck eight, two of the Peacekeepers stepped into the room. They went around, counting heads and writing down each boy's assigned number, which was displayed on the sleeves and backs of his jumpsuit. They came around to Alfie, and he quietly showed them his sleeve, the Peacekeeper in front of him writing the number down before swiftly moving on.
Once the Peacekeepers had made their way around the whole room, the doors slid open, and the officers corralled the groups of boys as if they were sheep into the outdoors. A cool breeze drifted over Alfie, causing his skin to prickle ever so slightly, the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sudden temperature shift. The rising sun shone through the high chain fence, casting strangely patterned shadows onto the large grass field before Alfie.
A taste of freedom, if even for a moment.
Alfie made his way across the field, following the lead of the officers as they rounded the corner towards the large gardens which the prison kept, rows of fruits and vegetables and all sorts of other plants. The prison sold the produce they made, the prison getting the extra money, and the prisoners who worked would get time off their sentences. All across the board, everyone benefited, though Alfie didn't care much about his sentence, as he was donating the time he earned to Asphodel's. He just liked getting the chance to breathe some fresh air.
The Peacekeepers handed out assignments to each of them, pointing them to which part of the garden they were supposed to go to. Alfie was happy to see that he'd been assigned to the flower section of the garden, pruning and weeding the flower beds, as it was one of the easier jobs. He made his way to the back section of the gardens, which was packed full of planters containing flowers of all sorts of different colours and shapes and smells. Picking up a few of the tools which sat in large boxes at the ends of the rows of planters, Alfie turned down the aisle, crouching down and placing a hand against the wooden ledge of the box. The sweet smell of flowers was overwhelming as he dug into the weeds which had begun to grow at the base of the bright green stems. Alfie gripped the base of the small weed, pulling it out of the dirt and throwing it into the bucket which he carried with him.
The flowers rippled ever so slightly in the breeze as Alfie continued weeding, standing and moving every time he ran out of sprouts within his reach. It was repetitive, calming, something to put his mind to, to keep it off of things that he didn't want to think about. It was far calmer than the community home; the atmosphere there was always tense, strained by the presence of the Twelvies. That was certainly something he didn't miss about the community home. He didn't blame the Twelvies for the tension - they'd gone through enough already - but he just wished they all could've gotten along rather than there being infighting. Everything would've been different.
Everything would've been better.
But there was nothing Alfie could do to change it now. No, he had to grin and bear it, to take the sentence which had been brought down on him. He didn't blame anybody: not his mothers, not Nugua who had inspired him, driven him to want to take care of the kids that had attached themselves to him, not anybody but himself for this position he'd gotten himself into. It was his fault in the end.
In fact, he wouldn't even know his mothers were his mothers had he not landed in jail. He'd always assumed that he'd been left at the community home by his parents, abandoned just like all the other kids; after all, Fielder was a rather common last name in Nine. But it turns out he was special, or at least as special as one can be in a place like the community home. His mothers explained that they'd never told him so the other kids wouldn't target him or think him above the rest just because of the fact he had parents. Alfie still wasn't exactly sure how to feel about the whole situation, but that wasn't a right now problem.
There was no point in worrying about things he couldn't fix. Alfie had enough to think about already.
Pulling the last of the weeds from the flower bed, Alfie turned to look up at the sky, wiping the sweat from his brow. Based on where the sun was compared to where it was earlier it seemed like he'd been at it for a good few hours already, the time slipping past faster than he could realize. Alfie could feel himself slipping too, waning away from the world slowly with each day that passed. Despite having every chance, every reason to just slip away, to just give up, he would not. Life was a constant struggle for Alife, and he'd come ever so close to just giving up, giving up and letting himself fall away and fade into obscurity, his memory forgotten entirely. But he wouldn't - or more accurately, he couldn't. No, Alfie had to make it up to those he'd let down. Alfalfa Fielder was holding on by a thread, but if that thread got him through another hour, another day, another week, it was more than enough; it needed to be enough. He would hold on to the shreds of hope as long as he had to.
A shred was something in the end, after all.
Nugua Meng, 17.
District 9 Female.
"Thank you, I'll see you two next week, yeah?" Nugua asked, taking the hand offered by the man before her.
"Yes ma'am, same time next week," He replied, passing a handful of coins from his hand to Nugua's. The woman on his arm smiled widely and nodded, before the couple turned to leave the small shack. Nugua opened her hand, counting out the coins one by one before shoving them in her pocket, smiling inwardly to herself. Her business of pairing people up and giving out relationship advice for payment was a fruitful one, making her a great deal of money, especially for someone who didn't have a real job. The Love Shack made her money and Nugua got to continue enthralling the other children of the community home, a win-win situation across the board. Love was a science to Nugua, fascinating and intricate, figuring out how people connected and what made them work.
There was nothing more fascinating than tearing a person's psyche apart, getting into their heads and understanding them in every way possible.
Nugua turned, moving deeper into the small shack. As she passed through a beaded curtain, the beads swished and clinked against each other, the smell of incense growing stronger with every step she took. The room was cozy, lit with warm red and pink lights that washed across her light brown skin. Nugua had built this all on her own, through her own hard work, and now she was reaping the wealth she'd sowed.
Nugua moved to the very back corner of the room, bending at the knee and prying up a wooden floorboard. Reaching into the small hole, she picked up and opened a small metal box which contained all of her money. She deposited all of the coins in her hands into the box, then locked it and replaced it beneath the floor.
"Nugua? You here?" The familiar voice of Deena called through from the front of the room.
"Yes ma'am, just packing up for the day. What's up?" Nugua replied, standing to see Deena grinning at her through the beaded curtain, Spirit at her side.
"Need a hand?"
"Yeah, sure," Nugua replied, gesturing to the front of the shop. "I bought some new lights if you want to help me put them up."
"Go get 'em kid," Deena chuckled, gesturing to Spirit who stood next to her. Spirit rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically as she disappeared, returning moments later with the box of string lights in her hands. She held them out to Deena, who took them, turning back to Nugua.
"Where do you want 'em boss?" Deena inquired, looking around the room. She pointed towards a section of wall and ceiling which was void of any decoration. "What about over there?"
"Hm, yeah, that works," Nugua confirmed with a nod. Deena beckoned for Spirit to help her, and the two began setting up the lights, stringing them across the wall haphazardly.
Nugua couldn't imagine life without the other girls, and she was shocked she went so many years without them. Nugua had been a loner for much of the first chunk of her life at the community home, just focused on trying to keep herself alive, just barely scraping by, by the skin of her teeth. She'd found other people fascinating, yes, and she'd always wanted to get closer to them, but she'd never been sure of how to approach it. After she'd seen one of the other boys, Alfie Fielder, effortlessly make friends with everyone he came across, she decided to throw herself in the deep end. She'd put her observation skills to use and began to pair people up, spreading love across the entire home.
And the rest was history.
"You hear about that party downtown tonight?" Deena asked as Nugua carefully wiped all of the crystals which sat on the shelves around the room. Not all of them were real, but they gave the room a nice effect, so she didn't mind. (And besides that, the fakes cost less.)
"Yeah, who's hosting it?" Nugua certainly liked parties, as long as they were the right kind of parties, the ones that weren't gonna get raided by Peacekeepers.
"I dunno, but it's gonna be big."
"Do you want to go?"
"Of course! Is that even a question?"
"Well I never know with you, Deena, you can never make up your mind."
Deena snorted at Nugua's comment, not bothering to retort as she knew Nugua was right. She most often was right, spot on in her analysis of everyone and everything, although a voice in the back of her head always told her to stay grounded, to know she always could be wrong. Nugua couldn't afford to be wrong; after all she'd built an empire on being right. There was only one time she'd ever thought otherwise though, when the Twelvies showed up to their community home, having been displaced out of District Twelve. Food had gotten scarce, things were devolving into chaos, and so she had to act. Nugua couldn't let everything she'd worked so hard on slip away, not without putting up a fight. And so she took a side, in the war between Nines and Twelves, picking the Nines to keep on her side. It wasn't that she didn't care about the Twelves; she just couldn't afford to.
No, in a place like the community home, there was little you could afford to care about.
"So do you wanna go?" Deena prodded, pushing Nugua from her thoughts for an answer.
"Yeah, sure, why the hell not?" Nugua replied with a shrug, "Spirit, you can hold the fort down for the night, right?"
"Of course I can," Spirit mumbled, her voice quiet. She'd never been particularly talkative, but Nugua had seen a lot of herself in the younger girl, so much so that when she turned eighteen and got sent out of the home they lived in, she planned on adopting the girl. She'd been saving up for an apartment for herself, Deena and Spirit for a few years by that point, and by the time she was old enough, she'd have more than enough money.
"I've trained you well, kid," Deena said, stringing the last of the lights up on the wall, before moving to ruffle the girl's hair.
"What am I, a dog?" Spirit replied, playfully pushing Deena's hand away.
"I don't know, are you?"
"I'm done with this. Outfit time?" Nugua asked, replacing the last item onto the shelf.
"Yeah, lets go." Deena grinned, wrapping an arm around Spirit's shoulders. The trio departed the small shack, Nugua locking the door behind them.
"This shirt?" Deena asked, stepping out from behind the panel wall, holding her arms out to show Nugua the newest shirt she'd put on. Nugua looked up from her bed where she was sprawled out.
"It's fine, I guess, just a little boring," Nugua responded with a shrug, "Who are you trying to impress tonight? What's her name, Rachel?"
"No, no we broke up last week," Deena said as she retreated behind the panels again. The two shared a room in the community home, having moved into it after some of the kids older than them had left. It was one of the nicest rooms in the house, most often reserved for the oldest kids, but due to Nugua's popularity amongst the other kids, she got first dibs at it. It was one of the many perks of establishing good relations with the others.
"How many girls have you gone through this month?" Nugua chuckled softly. She'd never been able to find somebody she thought would go well with Deena, and so Deena had decided to look for a girlfriend of her own accord. Nugua didn't understand why. She was the best at matchmaking, so if she didn't have any luck finding Deena a match, how would Deena be able to? However, there was an amusing amount of irony in the fact that the matchmaker's best friend didn't have a match herself.
"I don't know, three or four?"
"You don't... know?"
"There's no point in keeping track at this point," Deena snorted, stepping out from behind the panel wall again, wearing a different shirt, this one faintly glittering silver.
"Maybe you should," Nugua shrugged, "They have feelings too; it does hurt them when you just drop them like that."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Deena shrugged, looking herself over in the mirror which hung on the wall nearby. "You usually are."
"I know. You'll find somebody, I'm sure of it. Are you ready to go?" Nugua asked, pulling herself to her feet. She carefully smoothed down her outfit, making sure there were no wrinkles in the fabric of her flowing white shirt.
"Yeah, yeah, let's just get the hell out of here," Deena replied, brushing her hair back out of her face. Nugua made her way to the door, opening it and poking her head out into the hallway. She didn't want to risk running into the headmistresses. They weren't technically supposed to leave, especially not at this hour, but through a mix of luck and getting the other children who lived in the home to cover for them, they could basically come and go as they pleased. Deena followed, the pair stepping into the hallway, making their way to the stairs which they ascended quietly. There were voices coming from the library room next to the door, echoing loudly throughout the massive house. Nugua peeked around the corner to see who it was, the younger children turning to greet her as she sent a toothy grin to them.
"Are you going?" One of them, a young girl named Emmaline, called from her spot on the floor. Nugua nodded, holding a finger to her lips, signaling them to be quiet.
"Ohhh, okay yeah. We won't say anything right?" Emmaline grinned turning to the others who sat around her. One of the quieter boys - Nugua believed his name to be Zach - looked up from the book in his lap, nodding as well.
"Okay, I'll see you kids later, alright? Maybe I'll even bring a treat back for you," Nugua smiled, ducking out of the room. Deena was standing nearby, leaning against the wall in the foyer, giving Nugua an exasperated look.
"What?" Nugua asked, walking to catch up with Deena as she began making her way to the door.
"I just don't know why you're so attached to everyone here. We're gonna be leaving in a year anyways," Deena shrugged, pushing the front door open carefully, as it tended to creak loudly if opened too quickly.
"Well, how do you think I got where I am? By establishing connections with everyone here," Nugua explained, gesturing to the house as they walked away from it.
"Yeah, that makes sense, I guess I just... Never got that, you know? I've never been able to do that."
"Yeah, which is okay. You'll figure it out, and I'll help you." Nugua said, patting Deena on the shoulder.
They'd all figure it out in time, especially with Nugua Meng on their side.
