Have Pity

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling & it was almost dark; I didn’t know it could get so cold, nor that the moon could disappear for so long. At least not on this planet, not in a place where the sun doesn’t set for six months of the year. It’s been seven months since the sunset & four since the moon disappeared. The rain clouds come & go along with snow.

“papa?” I whisper in his ear & shake his shoulder, “papa…” I whisper a bit louder, “papa, we have to go-papa we’ve got to go now.”

Papa doesn’t move nor make a sound, I take in a sharp breath of cold air & squint into the darkness. I see faint light in the distance & I as I close my eyes, I focus my hearing-the sound of bullpits in the distance. The deadliest beast on our planet & only used by the detainers; used to catch the poor. If you lose your job, they only give you so much time to find a new. If you can’t keep the second job or find one, then they put you on THE LIST.

Once on THE LIST, your days are numbered & the government give the detainers an updated copy of THE LIST every week. Papa’s been on it for a month now, long enough that they’ve sought the bullpits out. We’ve been on the run for so long, hiding in dumpsters & alleyways. With the sun & moon gone & the ever changing two elements, we have to rely mainly on hearing. Moving in general can be dangerous to do…

“Papa,” I whisper once more with urgency in my voice, “Papa the bullpits and detainers are coming,” I shake his shoulder more vigorously, “Papa, this isn’t funny…papa they’re gonna take you from me…” still nothing, “Papa-“

“And what do we have hear?” a voice comes as a lantern light is shined in my eyes

“Looks like another bum,” another says as they look at papa, “hey,” he snaps, “get up you,” he adds as he kicks papa with his foot

“Stop,” the first says, “you’re scaring the mouse.”

‘Mouse,’ that’s what they call the children of the bums & builds; builds being the women who lost their jobs, similar to the men. Most of the ‘mice’ end up remaining on the streets: steeling & running (if you’re boy) or running & praying you don’t get found (if you’re a girl. Boys have it much easier-they have a better chance at getting a job & ability to become a detainer if they’re taken pity on. But a girl isn’t as lucky, girls can’t be detainers; a girl has two choices: find a detainer to marry her & remain in the house in order to stay safe from the streets-or be accepted into the holy men & obey their EVERY whim. The holy men terrify me more than the detainers-if a detainers don’t take pity on a girl by the time she’s hit womanhood, then she’s forcibly taken to the holy men.

There’s only three types of men & three women in this world; men: detainers, workers & holy men. Women: holy men serves, detainers or workers wives. Mama left us to serve the holy men after papa became a bum & we haven’t seen nor heard from her since. Holy men servers aren’t permitted to have contact with any one from their previous life. I avoid eye contact as I feel the two detainers gaze upon me & papa.

“Yeah, this bum’s dead,” the more ruthless one say upon nudging my father again with his foot, “let’s go.”

My head snaps up at their words, the lanterns light blinds me the gentler detainer sees my eyes big as saucers with fear. Giving me a regretful look, they both go to leave & I grab onto the kinder one in desperation without first realizing it. They look back down into my pleading eyes as I feel tear brim the edge of my eyes. I do wanna remain on the streets & eventually forcibly taken to the holy men or risk a husband becoming a bum. I’d be safer & well kept with a detainer-not all of them are nice, but I can tell that this one is.

“Ppplease,” I shiver out in a stutter, “pity me sir.”

“I said let’s go,” the crueler one snaps

“what about the mouse?”

“What about her?-just leave her. Don’t pity her, you’re wife won’t like her around.”

“My wife’s on her death bed and you know that,” the kind one says as continues to look at me & gently run his hand along my face, “she only has days-“

“The mouse is too young-“

“She’ll be my ward…till her time comes.”

“You’re fool.”

“Come on mouse, let’s get you home, clean and warmed up.”

“Th-thank yyyou,” I tell him, “thank you so much for taking pity on me sir.”

“of course little mouse,” they say kindly while wiping my tears away from my face while taking off the coat to his uniform & putting it around my shoulders

“Let’s go already!” the other shouts

“Coming!” mine says as they sweep me off my cold, bare feet-into their arms & carries me

I feel my heartbeat slow as my cold form absorbs their body’s warmth; I allow my eyes to ease close as I find comfort while my head falls against their chest & I think my breath is starting to slow as well. I’ll probably be dead before dawn-unless my new detainer can get me a worker class to look at & save me. Life or death, it doesn’t matter to me-so long as I’m not on the streets anymore. As long as I’m no longer on the streets, I’m safe & sound from most hardships this cruel world holds. No one knows what our futures hold nor who’s paths will cross with whom…

“we’ll get you help soon enough mouse.”

“Thank you…”