Pain
Something I knew little of. As a child the most pain I felt was being stung by a wasp. I can feel that memory slowly fading away as I have a whole new outlook on pain.
I’ve never experienced so much pain that I have wanted to die. Over the last twenty-four hours, I have seen four lifeless bodies being dragged out of the once white cells. I have seen my cell-mate crying out in pain. The walls of our cell are covered in blood, mainly mine but he has contributed too. I haven’t seen the colour red in a long time; I just wish it had been in different circumstances.
I have been whipped. My back is so numb I’m beginning to wonder if I even have any skin left. My wrists are bloody from trying to struggle out of these chains. Why am I alive? I want this to stop! I can hear the agony of the other victims. I’m just waiting for my next round of excruciating pain. What will it be now? Another whip? A Strangling? Or will they up their game and go for an electrocution?
Neither. A guard walks in carrying a red hot stick. I pullback on the chains ripping one of my wrist wounds open. Before I have any more time to take in what’s about to happen to me, the stick is placed on my back and I feel my flesh melt off.
My scream must be deafening. The previous whip marks are being scalded. Nothing can describe the paralysing pain I am in. I see my cell-mate wince; he turns his head away so he can’t see. I don’t blame him. My head is going dizzy and vision is becoming black around the sides. I can feel myself slipping out of consciousness; I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.
“STOP! JUST STOP!” The stranger screams. The scalding stops and every inch of my back stings like a thousand wasps. I get a head rush as I look up at the stranger with grateful eyes. The guard looks at us both and starts toward him. The stranger shows fear in his eyes but remains strong. He has just saved me yet again.
“NO,” I croak out as I watch the guard put the hot stick on the stranger’s back. He howls out in pain. I am helpless here, watching an innocent stranger take a beating for sticking up for me. He isn’t a stranger anymore. I know him. I can’t let this happen to him. I try my best to scream for them to stop but it just makes his and my punishment worse.
Once the guard has stopped, we are left alone.
“Why would you do that?” I yell through tears streaked down my cheeks. He doesn’t respond. I have to check he’s still breathing to reassure myself. He is in so much pain he can’t even speak. Either that or he is so mad that he just took a beating for me. I watch him as his breaths slowly even out. He mumbles something through his mouth that I can’t quite hear. There is a stream of blood dripping from his nose onto the floor. He looks like he is slipping in and out of consciousness.
There’s nothing I can do to help him. If he dies now I will never be able to re-pay him for saving my life. I need him to hold on. I need to keep him alive.
“You hold on, do you hear me!” I say to him, knowing he may not even be able to hear me or answer. “Don’t you dare let go, I don’t even know your name. Please just hold on,” I beg with tears drip off my cheek like the blood from his face.
Weirdly enough I think he heard me. His eyes open and stare at me then they look down again. There is silence in our cell but the building is filled with the screams of the other prisoners. I try to sleep but I can’t let my eyes close as I am too focused on making sure the stranger is alright. I feel like I have to protect him now after what he went through for me.
A guard walks in breaking my stare with the stranger. He has a small vile filled half way with a blue liquid. Could this be medicine for the stranger? I look at the guard. He looks back at me. I just stare waiting for the next method of torture to be brought upon me.
He walks over to me with his hand reaching out towards me. He puts his hand across my face and pushes my head back. I try to struggle free but it is no use. He tips the blue liquid into my mouth, holding down my nose so I am forced to swallow if I want to breathe again. At first I don’t feel anything different. He didn’t tell me what it is or what it will do to me.
My breathing starts to speed up rapidly. Something is stirring up inside me. That’s when I feel it – the real purpose for this blue liquid. A pain so excruciating is coming from my chest and stomach. I feel like someone has shoved something alive down my throat and it is working its way out through the front of my body. I don’t scream out like I did for the other methods. This pain is different. It’s the type of pain where if you scream it hurts you more. I grit my teeth together hoping it will relieve some pressure building up in my chest. I feel the beads of sweat rolling down my face. My breathing is now so rapid and un-even that every breath I take is another challenge waiting to be faced.
I can see the stranger in the corner of my eye. I try to focus my attention on him instead of the burning inside of me. I stare into his eyes keeping my mind awake. It’s like my body is at war with itself with every organ turning on each other. I can’t see the guard anymore. I don’t remember him leaving. I probably blacked out from the pain. My teeth have been clenched for so long that my jaw is aching.
About two hours later the blue liquid has worn off and my entire body aches and stings. The stranger has gained some colour back in his face and has stayed conscious for a long time now. More anxious hours pass as we wait for our next round of torture. I wince as I look over at the strangers back. I know my back will look like that if not worse. The stranger was not whipped but had the red hot stick on him for longer than I did.
We have both received different methods of torture. He has been injected with a lot of different coloured substances where as I have received more physical torture. I haven’t heard him screaming out in pain other than the time he took a beating for me. I have no idea what they’re putting him through.
Our cell doors open and both mine and the strangers head dart up, checking to see what comes next. There is a guard standing with a large tub of water. Maybe he is bringing it in to clean the stale blood or to let us drink from it. We haven’t had a drink or food since we got here. Food is the last thing on my mind, the thought makes me feel ill. I look at the water ignoring the somewhat smug guard. I am severely dehydrated and have lost a lot of water through sweat and blood.
The guard pulls the tub closer to me and I can feel the stranger’s eyes longing for water. He must think we’re going to get a drink. My mouth is so dry, it’s hard to swallow. As the tub is bought closer – so close it presses against my kneeling body – I can see my reflection in the transparent liquid. Blood drips from the side of my face. It looks like I have cried blood. Maybe I have. I don’t know what they’ve done to my body but crying blood could easily be something they’ve done.
I feel forceful hands on the back of my neck pushing my head into the water. Such a force is used that I feel my back wounds peel open as they were just starting to heal.
Even though they are trying to drown me, the cool water is soothing on my burning face. My head is pulled out but I fear that was only the start. I gasp for as much air as possible before my head is pushed back in again.
I start to gulp the water. It’s the only water I’ve seen since we got here. I can feel the liquid spreading through my body, cooling my burning insides. I gulp even more till my lungs scream for air. The guard pulls me out again realising what I am doing. He lashes out at my face. I barely feel it at all. It was more discomfort for him getting his hand wet then for me.
He takes a piece of cloth out of his pocket. He puts his dirty hand across my face and pushes my head back. He then shoves the cloth into my mouth so far it makes me gag. Pulling on my hair now he looks into my eyes, smiles, and then my vision goes blurry as I’m in the water again. This time I can’t drink, I didn’t even take a breath before I went in.
My head is throbbing. I can’t tell if I am hearing things or if the stranger is shouting at the guard. Every sound is muffled underwater. My body is panicking as it struggles to find air to fill my deprived lungs. My body’s main focus now is getting blood to my heart. As my mind is losing consciousness, I start to see things.
You know when people say, ‘before you die, your life flashes before your eyes’, it’s not true. You don’t see everything, just the memorable, treasured moments.
My Mum features a lot. I see her tucking me into bed when I was seven. I see Alex and me running through our once colourful city. I see the birth of my sister Tallulah. It’s nice to relive these precious memories. But you can’t have your life shown to you without seeing the things that have made you who you are.
I see my parents fighting. I see Alex’s face when he told me about our mother’s death. I see the hospital. I see my recurring night terror, running from a strange man. I see the sea of grey that is now our city.
In my last few seconds I see the lake where I used to swim and the orchard. The sea of blossom and the way the sun reflects on the clear, crisp water. I’d do anything to be back there – to feel the cool breeze on the back of my bloody neck, and feel the cool water soothing my battered body, and to see colour again!
Colour! I need to see colour again. I can’t give up now. “Keep your heart beating,” I repeat in my head. “Keep it beating”.
The tight grip on my hair is released. There is nothing holding me in the water. I don’t have the energy to pull myself out. It’s like the hands are still there weighing me down. I can’t pull myself out but it’s okay because I don’t need to. Warm comforting hands gently pull me out of the water and place me on the floor.
I still can’t open my eyes. Maybe I’m unconscious. My mouth hasn’t opened to allow oxygen into my burning lungs. I feel a huge weight pressing down on my chest over and over again. Then I feel lips on mine blowing air into my lungs. The weight is back again and then the lips.
I feel a wincing pain, nothing like I’ve felt before, rush through my chest. I cough up water and throw my body on its side so I’m lying on my stomach, finding the optimum position to open my airways. I still haven’t opened my eyes. I’m just appreciating oxygen in my body again. The floor sends a cold shiver through me.
I ache. I sting. My chest is so tight I can feel my heart pounding like a thousand drums. Before my head can re-adjust to see who just saved me, I’m being scooped up and carried away out of my red cell.
I’m outside. The air is so fresh compared to the thick used air I breathed in our cell. We enter a large warehouse stacked with boxes.
The person who carried me is the person who saved me from drowning – the stranger who I spoke to before in the truck, my cell-mate who took a beating for me, the boy who saved me from myself at school. I don’t even know his name.
“Are you okay?” he asks. His voice is un-steady, not the same comforting voice I’ve grown used to. He places me down next to some boxes for me to lean against as I catch my breath. He seems surprisingly fine considering he has just run quite a distance with me in his arms. I bend down putting my head to my knees.
“You saved me?” I look up to see him nodding. I stare into his eyes expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t. “How did you get out?” I croak.
“There was an ambush of people who have come to save us. They released me so I went to help you.” He changes the path of his eyesight, so he is now staring at his feet. “You weren’t breathing, and your heart had stopped beating.” He frowns like he is reliving a painful memory. I feel a tear run down my cheek. Not a tear of sadness but out of happiness that there are still good people left in this world.
I start to rush my sentence so I don’t burst into tears. “I don’t even know your name and you’ve just saved my life and in our cell you took a beating for me and back at school you saved me from myself and I…” Tears are now streaming down my face and dripping onto my knees.
“Ssssh Alleyah, now isn’t the time!” How does he know my name? He puts his hand on my knee. Listen we have about three minutes before it’s clear for us to run. Get your breath back.” As he takes his hand away I see his wrist. There are so many tiny dots around his veins. This is clearly where they injected him, with whatever those colourful substances were. “My name’s Luke,” he says.
I force a smile but it can’t have been convincing. “I’m…”
“I know!” he interrupts me. “I will be right back. I’m just going to check with the others when we can get out of here.” He gets up and walks to a group of three people. I didn’t even realise there were others in here with us. I look over to the group he’s standing with. I recognise two of them. They’re the people who were unconscious in the truck with me and Luke. Luke is talking to a girl in a white dress. If she didn’t look about the same age as me, I would say it was a wedding dress. It has a blood stain marking where her stomach is. Considering the amount of blood in mine and Luke’s cell, there is surprisingly not a lot on her. Luke frowns revealing a crease between his eyebrows. He looks over to me not hiding his panicked look. I look back longing for answers and his comforting hands to be wrapped back around me.
He starts to walk back so I try to get up on my feet. I wince as I feel my back stretch but compared to what I’ve been through this is nothing. “What’s going on?” I ask him.
“It’s time to move! Are you ready to run?” he says helping me up.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“There is a rescue pod waiting for everyone. It will take us all to safety. We have to move now or they’ll find us!” His eye line never falters with mine. “They won’t kill us but they will try to take us back to our cells.” He taps my shoulder gesturing for me to follow him. Every step I take is a challenge, after all my heart did stop beating about four minutes ago.
Before I can blurt out all the questions in my head, I find myself walking behind him. I am told to just follow my instructions which are: follow Luke and stay alive. The thought of running is just as painful as actually doing it.
We run to the back of another storage facility. It makes it easier when I can see the target destination. I am on the verge of collapsing till my adrenaline kicks in, helping me forget my back wounds. The route was meant to be clear but our group of eight finds ourselves cut off by guards patrolling the area searching for us.
We take shortcuts through buildings and alleyways. It is going smoothly until we find ourselves swarmed by guards. None of our team is armed so our only option is to run and hope not to get a dart through us. The core banned all guns at the same time as colour, but they compromised with dart guns for their workers only.
Luke grabs my hand and we just run. Our entire team is either severely wounded or in a bloody wedding dress. I make eye contact with a girl I don’t recognise. She is matching mine and Luke’s pace until a dart hits her in the chest making her fall to her knees. I try to stop and help her but Luke pulls me forward. I look back at her bleeding body on the floor, which could easily have been me. I see the guards run towards her and drag her body towards the direction we came from.
The pod is insight. Another team mate has been taken back to the cells. They’re not killing us, just like Luke said. They clearly need us for something, but the whole time I was in there, all they did was torture us. They didn’t ask a single question. Usually you’d torture someone for information.
There is a wire fence in the way. We’re going to have to crawl under it. I look around for the rest of our team but the only ones who remain are me, Luke, the girl in the bloody wedding dress and a boy who was in the group Luke was talking to earlier. Other than that, I don’t see anyone else. Our group of nine has been reduced to four in about 800 metres. I squeeze through the fence which may as well be a method of torture. The rusty wire sticks to my back wounds and I wince. I make it through with minimal damage, and turn back around to help the others. The girl is already through helping the boy so I help Luke. He almost makes through it untouched when a dart hits him in the knee cap making him cry out in pain.
I go to him and help him up supporting his weight. Blood is streaming from his knee. He can’t put any weight on his left leg which makes me think the dart has reached the bone. I ignore the shooting pain in my right arm and focus on getting him to the pod. We have come too far to just give up now.
The door of the pod opens welcoming us in with comforting faces. Someone sees to Luke taking him away somewhere less crowded to sort him out. He lets out little whimpers as he walks, like a small dog. The comforting faces don’t know what to do with us. They direct me to a room set up like a hospital. It looks ghostly familiar to the one I stayed in as a child.
I look to the pain in my arm as it is becoming increasingly worse since my adrenaline is wearing off. I see a dart. I clench my jaw, put my hand around it and pull. A perfect line of blood drops down my arm, through my fingers and onto the floor. A dart to the arm is nothing compared to what the others who didn’t make it will be going through now.
My back wounds take away the pain from my arm. The pod goes on for as far as I can see. I’ve never seen a pod so big. I’ve only ever been in a pod once when I was eight. Our family were going on holiday to the country side. I remember our family saving every penny for months so that we could afford that trip.
Pods are long white tubes that run on a track around the outskirts of the city. From my only experience in a pod, it contains everything you need to live. There are bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchens, even swimming pools on some of the fancy ones. Most journeys take around five hours but they make the pod go slower so people can enjoy their trip more. Some pods are used for shipping and transporting goods. These run on the outskirts of our city and take a lot longer than the holiday pods. It will take about three days to do a full lap of the city. Judging by the size of this pod I’m guessing this one is a shipping pod.
There is a huge room that has been set up as a make-shift hospital. Most, if not all the people rescued are badly injured. I walk past a smaller room that has a few machines in making a liquid that looks like soup. They’re handing this out to some people that look in shock but aren’t wounded. Every room I go past is crammed full with people. They’re all lying on the floor or leaning on supply boxes. The smell of sweaty, terrified, bloody people fills the air.
Slowly but surely everyone is given medical treatment. I haven’t seen Luke since he was taken away to get help. It will be impossible to find him in the crowd. A pleasant looking woman comes up to me and assists me to a bed. I must have looked a right state covered in blood with a stream dripping down my arm. I am placed on a hospital bed that clearly doesn’t belong here. I’m told to lie on my front so they can sort my back out. The helper then pulls a curtain round the bed to give me some privacy.
I wince with pain as someone’s cold hands are placed on my back rubbing in a soothing cream. The woman then gives me a vile filled half way with a green liquid. I am told it is for the pain but I hesitate as I relive the memory of the blue liquid I drank that made me feel like something was breaking through my stomach and chest. No! Don’t be stupid, it’s to help with the pain. I take in a deep breath, push the memory to the back of my mind and swallow without thinking anymore about it.
My back is already feeling better. The woman places a drip into my left arm and sets something up. She gets a bandage ready for my arm but is distracted when the girl in a wedding dress walks in. She walks over to her and assists her to the last empty bed. Their conversation is mumbled and I’m too sleep deprived to properly try and eavesdrop. I lie there a moment, appreciating the comfy mattress beneath me and the warmth of the help given to me.
I close my eyes, letting the chaos move around without me. I let my hearing sharpen to nearby conversations: someone in the bed next to me is crying. I can hear people being brought into the make-shift hospital. The thing that does catch my attention is an argument happening behind me, on the other side of the room. To open my eyes and see who’s arguing is too much effort so I let my ears do the work. If my senses are correct, it’s happening far away from me as I can’t make out all the words; they’re just mumbles. One voice is the helper who fixed me up and the other voice belongs to a boys. It sounds familiar and comforting. The boy is not raising his voice so that makes it even harder to hear.
The boy mumbles something like, “please just let me see her.”
Then the helper shouts back at him “No! Only the injured are allowed here, there’s not enough room.”
“She’s my sister please!” the boy says with his voice now raised. My eyes shoot open and without realising I gasp. Without a doubt I launch my body out of bed, run through the gap in the curtain and to the newly identified voice behind me.
Alex.
Sarah Scott Journalist 
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