Days passed by, and every night, a silhouette would creep through the night. A small, leather-bound book with the title The Holy Bible is flipped open, under the mysterious silver light.

Layana's mood noticeably lightens everyday, she could not comprehend whether it was because of the book itself or because it was Cathy's last gift. Whatever it was, she knew it was good.

M A T T H E W

One word is written at the top of the page. She read on, the silence of the night comforting her indubitably. Layana had missed reading the Bible after she had overslept for two nights and wasn't able to read.

Silver light spilled over her head and casted shadows on the cold, hard cement. Layana cautiously shifted in her seat so the light would glow upon the book.

Her head snapped to the hardened parchment that slipped out from the pages; it created a small, swishing sound as it slowly fell to the ground; like a butterfly landing on a leaf as Cathy used to phrase it. What even is a butterfly? She's only known it from metaphors and strange, old poems.

Layana carefully kneeled on the cement and picked up the parchment, raising it to the silver light.

O Lord,

You are forever loving
All-knowing,
Always caring,
For even when I am locked up
You still gave me gifts

Thankyou, Lord God
Creator of the universe
I will worship you,
All days of my life

Curiosity built up inside her, yet a warmth has spread to her heart at how sweet it was. She found herself smiling in thoughtful surrender, this book is...something else isn't it? For why would Cathy praise a being that wasn't real?

For a while, she had been asking herself this. A world with green leaves, towering trees and blossoming flowers, a world full of complex cities and communities.

The same world has been taught to them by Cathy and now by the Bible. But didn't she say it was just a figment of their imagination? The guards told them that nothing but grayness, ash and poison lurks outside.

She shook her head and closed the beaten up leather cover, sliding it inside the pouch and setting it aside unto the darkness. That seems enough for one night, her head already spiraling for what best to do.

Layana cautiously stood up and tiptoed past the silver light and snoring bodies. She still needed to know her next plan of action: convincing the others to help her.

Sally and Mason would be the easiest to convince that Cathy is still alive, but Andriette and Ian... She looked at the two sleeping bodies.

Andriette had pale, sickly toned skin, high cheekbones and sharp, thin eyes. Her rugged cut hair has always been a mystery to Layana, no one had proper haircuts except for a few special occasions. And she remembered how Sally told her by this rate and the date of the last haircut for them all, Andriette should already have longer hair than what she has now.

Ian meanwhile, Layana tiptoed past his snoring body; he had long curly brown hair, brown skin that almost always gives an orange hue under the warm light, and warm brown eyes.

Amidst his warm tones is someone cold and snobbish. He almost never talks for a day, both him and Andriette. Although Andriette does pick fights once in a while, unlike him who always just wanted peace and quiet. Cathy liked to call him an old soul.

Andriette always picks logic, that's what Layana observed about her. Every time they'd have an activi–

Her breath hitched in her throat, frozen at the center of the room. A tiny red dot caught the corners of her eye, gut twisting in anxiety. Instinct is telling Layana to stay in place; but instead, she dropped silently to the ground, staring suspiciously at the flashing red dot floating in the ceiling. For once, she was thankful for the darkness cloaking her crouching figure.

She stayed there, even the snoring stopped as she started a staring contest with the suspicious red blob. Thousands of questions ran around her head, what is that? How have I not seen that until now?

From the other side of the dot, a man sat still and tense in his seat.

He watched as the girl stared, pupils catching and reflecting the red of the camera. She looked rabid, crouching in the ground with skin caked with dirt and ash, clothes barely hanging into her thin, gangly form.

Was this what his father did to these poor children? His throat became parched and he felt his muscles tense, clenching the armrest of his soft, plush chair.

But he could do nothing. Nothing but watch as the girl, barely above his own age, looked away, scampering to her mattress at the far corner. The man gulped, he could do nothing.

"How are the new installations?"

A familiar voice resounded from behind him. He immediately let go of the armrest and let out a breath through his mouth.

The man turned around to catch the redhead guard leaning against the doorframe."Swell," was all the prince said.

"You do know this is something we must take precautions of, right?" His friend's face softened just a little, smiling ever so slightly at him. "A little birdie told me there's a possibility someone would start rebelling against us. You know, now that Cathy's...disposed of.

"And you know we can't have that, right?'' the redhead's face hardened, something far too familiar for the man seated in front of the cameras. He knew this all too well, the drastic and quick change from soft, understanding faces to hard, angered ones. You know that doesn't work on me anymore.

But the man only smiled, a somewhat genuine smile and said, "Right."

A couple countless nights later, the thought of the blob hasn't left Layana's mind yet. Every night, two brown eyes and a red dot would stare at each other. It wasn't long before she thought it was silly and broke their silent agreement of staring contests every night.

Layana opened The Holy Bible to its last book, seated in her usual position under the silver light. She didn't know how long she had been reading the Bible, but she suspects a couple weeks, or months, or years, she didn't quite understand the passage of time. Sally was the girl to ask for that.

R E V E L A T I O N S

The revelation of Jesus Christ...

The next pages left her mouth hanging on the cold, cement floor. Mixed emotions huddled up inside of her, in awe of His glory and in shock of what is to become of the world He created.

'He who testifies to these things says, "Surely I am coming soon." Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all. Amen.'

A burning feeling fizzled up inside of her as she let out a breath of awe, admiration and shock. Layana smiled a little as she closed the book, is this how books make you feel? It is nothing compared to making and reading poems, it's as if it was real.

Oh but it is, isn't it?

Although Layana couldn't argue the fact that she hadn't seen Him for herself. And something about this fact makes her feel icky, as if all this that she's started believing in has all been nothing but a fluke, a desperate flail of her arms to try and save Cathy.

Her doubts seemed to have been answered as another parchment fell from the page.

Layana raised an eyebrow as she picked it up, unlike most of Cathy's poems, this one was a bit longer, broader.

She raised the parchment to the silver light, it was blotched with ink. As though Cathy had scribbled it down in a quick manner as the first lines are nothing but dots of ink. Why would she have been in such a rush?

To my dear Layana, I know you are reading this because I have given you the Holy Bible. Another thing I want to remind you. Not everything in this world is real, my curious freedom. Think wisely. I love you, my dearest angel. 'Cause of you, I was able to live my life despite everything. How are you? Ranting, probably, my old gears still remember how you used to rant about the ants. I know you, you won't be satisfied until you get what you want. See you soon, hopefully not so soon though. Till we meet again, my sunshine; just a reminder, everything you have read in this book, is real.

Layana stared silently at Cathy's letter, silver light spilling over the intricate handwriting. Silent tears trickled down her dirt streaked, olive cheek and dripped down the thin parchment. Layana shook her head and tried to calm her breathing, but to no avail.

She frantically read the letter over and over again, reliving their memories together, trying to imprint the ancient smell of Cathy's letter into her mind.

'Everything you have read in this book is real,' if Layana were to be real, she didn't want to believe it, after all, she has not seen it. Yet something inside of her is curious–and rather hopeful–why would Cathy tell her something is real if it isn't? Why would she make me believe something not real?