What a Splendid Day to Go

In the book-sized window on the classroom door, she saw her end.  Yes, a few people had seen her brother and her distributing the protest leaflets in the past, but they were friends, or at least friends enough not to rat them out.  But the wide, panicked look on the custodian’s face told her they wouldn’t be so lucky this time, and the way he disappeared in quickly fading footsteps told her the police would come soon.

Her innards collapsed in on themselves.  Her arms seized up, but her chest was struggling not to burst, as if it were trying to put the brakes on wheels going 150 kph and accelerating.  

If the two of them left now, they could escape unnoticed; after all, they did know all the secret routes throughout the university.  

No, she thought, they would catch us by tomorrow, not unless that man tripped and hit his head on a rock.  Besides, there was no place in the whole continent to find refuge.  

Harsh shouting rang from a distance.  Ten black cars rolled down the street, barely screeching to a halt before uniformed men with shotguns in hand jumped out the side windows.  They surrounded the building as the young woman looked on in suffocating horror as three of the soldiers entered the bottom of the stairwell.  They raced up the stairs as fast as possible, every footfall reverberating through the bricks like shockwaves.  The noise amplified as her pulse fell in time with the thundering steps of the three men.  Fear locked her limbs in place, gagged her mouth, and held a dagger to her throat.  There was nothing she could do to break free, nothing she could do to save herself.  She could only stare forward at the door, waiting for the bullets.

One herculean kick busted the lock wide open, and the helpless woman found three barrels aimed square at her chest.  Almost in spite, the fingers took their sweet time pulling the trigger…

Boom!

“Hey, Sis.”

She snapped out of her hallucination and whipped her head towards the source of the words.  Her little brother, whose hands were stuffed in a pile of leaflets, stared up at her inquisitively.

The soldiers were gone.  The door was untouched.  Birds whimsically chirped from the trees as the voices of chatting students below droned on.  

Released from her paranoia, the woman collapsed onto the wall, taking in ragged breaths while she brushed the long bangs of her short mocha-colored hair behind her ear with shaking arms, feeling the sweat trailing the side of her face.  Her eyes flickered between the door and her brother.  

The young man followed her gaze with with widened eyes and straightened his stance, taking a step back.  With a look of utter panic, he turned around and paced a few steps, one hand on his hip and the other on his face.  When he turned back to his sister with sorrowful, pale eyes, she saw pain, but not from fear of his own death.

Her brother had the same expressive blue eyes that she did, but his hair glowed like a beach littered with gold.  Combined with his strong features and pale skin, he had the looks all the men here would kill for.  He could have such a perfect life here if he wanted to, but as loyal as he was, he was never one to shoot an innocent little girl just because someone told him to.  She still couldn’t forget that day when he returned from his duties as a medic on the battlefield, looking more like a faceless statue than a curious teenager.  

“They were laying on the dirt in the most impossible ways just ‘cause someone decided they looked a bit off.  And they didn’t even seem resentful.  Just… betrayed by humanity.  By us…” he murmured to his sister one quiet morning.  

His stories frightened her more than anything she had ever experienced herself.  So when he showed up the next week revived and enthusiastic again, she didn’t hesitate to join his new-found resistance group versus the war and all it represented as well.  Being caught was always part of the gamble, but she liked games.

As the two of them stared at each other in the abandoned room, she remembered everything she fought for and regained her composure.  She snatched up a box full of papers and dumped the entire contents out the window, tossing the box out to follow.  

“Sis.”

A hand gently met her shoulder and without hesitation she wrapped her arms around the person who might be the last friend she would ever see.  In his trembling embrace she resigned to salty tears.  When they pulled apart she saw the young man was struggling not to do the same.  Nevertheless his soft, genuine smile somehow instilled in her a notion of hope.

“We’re going to be fine,” he assured.

The young woman nodded and smiled back.  “I know,” she softly replied, though she really had no idea what “fine” meant, nor did she want to think about it.  “Let’s finish up with these leaflets for now.”  

Harsh shouting rang from a distance. Ten black cars rolled down the street, barely screeching to a halt before uniformed men with shotguns in hand jumped out the side windows.  The siblings paid them no attention.  With a deep breath they grabbed the boxes and scattered everything out the third-story window, arms still quivering, knees still shaking, breath still shuddering, and heart still pacing.  At least it was a nice sunny day.  She listened to the sweet songs of the birds outside amid the boxes crashing one by one to the earth.