Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) - By Devon Ashley Page 0,25
And though they intentionally move slower when the guards aren’t around, my wrist and arm really aches from all the twisting I’ve done with the pestle. Sadly, my left arm is terrible at it so my right is forced to do most of the work.
I groan and knead my fingers into my right arm muscles. How I was going to find the strength to reach up and pull the water lever tonight for a shower was beyond me, because my left can’t do it alone.
As agonizing as the work is, the worst part of the day is the silence. The only pixies that really seem to have it all together are Juniper and Willow, the latter I want nothing to do with, and unfortunately she works beside me. Holly and two other pixies, Ginger and Spruce, are willing to talk about half the time, but completely clam up the other half. The other prisoners are pretty much out of it completely. It still baffles me that they’re completely aware of what’s going on around them and can react when necessary, like waking the sleeping pixies in the back, but completely tune out the world the rest of the time. They don’t want to chat at the work tables to make the day go by faster, or curl up with the other pixies at night to keep warm. They just go about living a life without expression or feeling, completely numb to the world. They’re living life on flippin’ auto-flight or something.
I sometimes wonder about their sanity…and if I’m soon to follow.
I awake earlier than normal. The sky is still a medium shade of blue and the stars a faded shade of cream. I catch movement out the corner of my eye and turn to see a pixie standing beside me at the edge, gazing across the canyon to the other side. Can’t say I blame her really; I do it every morning and night, trying to focus on anywhere but here.
She’s one of the blue pixies but I don’t know her name. “Hi,” I say softly, friendly. A few seconds later she looks down to me but I’m not even sure she really sees me. Her face is void of expression and her eyes seem so empty. Without responding, she slowly turns back to the canyon. I rarely get to see the canyon since we’re not here during the daytime. But the early evenings and mornings light up the sky enough to see that a wonderful forest filled with luscious trees and animals lies just on the other side of the canyon, and a fast-flowing river rushes just below.
The blue pixie steps forward and my heart suddenly pounds in my chest. I know what she’s doing and I try to lunge myself towards her – but it’s too late. In an instant she’s gone. I’m left sitting on my knees, my arms outstretched and mouth wide open. I gasp – then scream into my cupped hands. It arouses the attention of the pixies closest to me. My body language speaks louder than words and the few that are still lucid these days jump to their feet and rush over. Those that remain in place look as dazed and lost as the pixie that leapt to her death.
I’m choking on my screams and crying uncontrollably by the time Juniper wraps her arms around my heaving body, gently shushing and saying it’ll be alright. Only it won’t. Not for me. Not for her. Certainly not for the poor pixie that’s no longer with us. At some point she had friends, possibly family, and now they’ll never know what became of her. They’re left to worry and wonder about her forever now.
And I didn’t even know her name.
Juniper holds my head as I wrap my arms around her waist, letting the tears flow freely. The convulsions have calmed but a tremble still remains in my limbs. A bluish blur nears and whispers to Juniper, “It was Orchid.” I’m pretty sure the voice belongs to Willow.
Juniper must be nodding her head in acknowledgement because my body bounces softly. “See to it they get breakfast going, will you?”
“Yes, mum.” The bluish blur fades into a little dot before disappearing completely from my tear-soaked eyes.
Fingers lightly massage my scalp, and my eyes begin to daze. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Rosalie. We lose pixies every once in a while to suicide, but it mostly happens late at night when we’re asleep.”