Wanderer

/ˈwändərər/

noun

a person who wanders aimlessly; a traveler

The words flickered in the back of my mind. All that Ben had said was scaring me. How was I going to decipher a code? What would happen if I was caught with these rebels? Would I be killed? That thought scared me the most.

I was beginning to grow accustomed to these stone walls. It wad refreshing to be in a different place, besides the laboratory, for a change. Although, it was not the outside world, it was the closest that I was most likely get to it. And I was grateful. I did get to experience the wind in my hair, if only for a mere second. Which is all I ever wanted to do.

Adults raced past me, doing their responsibilities in this colony like area. There were no children milling around though. If there was, they were undetected by myself as I walk the halls exploratiously.

Men with wiry beards practically ran to reach their post. One bumped into my shoulder, shoving me towards the ground. My balance was lost for a short moment before I catch myself in mid fall. Old women made their way around me, not letting a tumbled person block their path to their job. All these people, despite the stress lines on their foreheads and pale, dull skin from lack of sun exposure, looked happy. Not a fake happy like all the Brains in the lab, but a content look always appeared on their face. As if they enjoyed doing this strenuous work to keep the city functioning and lively.

I almost stumbled in my continuous steps from watching all the people. Even though they were probably just like the normal Bots in the outside world, they were intriguing. The way they also looked like they had no regrets. Regret was one thing always playing in people's minds. For not being the other twin, or being stuck in the program. Everyone, even the White Coats, had regrets. It was one of those emotions they couldn't erase with an injection. The human brain was more complicated than that.

The walls kept filling up, giving me a sense that there was no space for breathing. I turned a corner, not knowing where I was going in the slightest. When I began to walk down the hall, my eyes found an interest in the doors on either side of it. They were individual. Not one looked like the other. One might have turtles with masks to cover their face, and another would have a princess in a pink dress covering it like a canvas. I was in awe of the beautiful paintings, containing more imagination than I had in my entire body. They were exquisite.

My hand came up to touch the smooth surface when I find one that interests me greatly. It was obvious a little girl had left her mark there because it was full of princesses and horses, all dancing in the clouds with a castle in the background. The fascinating part wasn't that though. What I found intriguing was the precise hair and gown designs. Pinks mixed together perfectly to make the dress look even more realistic. The princess' hair styles all varied. One had a tight braid, not one hair out of place. Another had pieces of hair falling out of their ponytail and landing to frame their face.

"Who are you?" I jumped when I heard a little accented voice erupt behind me. When I turned around, there was a little girl holding a small plush doll tightly behind me, brown hair falling in her face like the princess in the painting.

"I'm Melissa," I introduced myself, kneeling down to her level. "I'm new around here."

"I can tell. You haven't seen my princess picture before," she stated obviously to me.

"No, I haven't. But it looks beautiful," I commended her, looking at the door again, unable to fathom that a little seven year old created it. "When did you paint it?"

"I don't know." She shrugged as she looked up at me with innocent, clear, forest green eyes.

"Where are your parents?" I asked gently. She looked at me weirdly for a second before answering my question.

"My parents aren't here," her tiny voice told me. My heart broke into tiny pieces as I digested the information.

"Neither are mine," I confided in her. Her face lit up when she looked up at me.

"Don't worry, Ashy says that Mommy and Daddy are just asleep and they will wake up when they aren't tired anymore," she assured me. My face fell even more, but I tried to cover it up, not letting her see my saddened expression.

"What's your name sweetie?" I asked her. She held her doll closer to her chest, practically cradling it.

"Riley," she beamed up at me excitedly. Her smile exposed two open gaps in the front of her mouth.

"Riley! Who are you talking to?" a deep, slightly accented voice, a lot like Riley's, erupted in the hall. Riley looked back towards the beginning of the hallway where the archway is holding the roof. A boy with brown hair, slightly lighter than Riley's, came into view almost immediately, the person finding their way toward us briskly. "You know not to talk to strangers Riles," he patronized lightly, picking her up when he finally reached her.

"But we know each other's names. We aren't strangers," she told him, looking back at me as I stand from the ground, where I was kneeling. I could see the guy holding her roll his eyes before turning toward me.

"I'm sorry she bothered you," he apologized. His voice slightly rising when he said certain syllables. I simply shook my head when he said this.

"No, it's fine. She was no bother," I assured him. "I'm just grateful she let me admire her wonderful painting!" I exclaimed, making the little girl giggle in the teens arms.

"The pleasure is all mine," she maturely stated, obviously getting that from one of the adults running around here. I smiled at her, shaking her hand that she had held out after saying that. The boy holding her shook his head, making his wavy hair fly all around, with laughter coming from his mouth.

"Well, we have to get going Riles. See you later...." He raised an eyebrow at me as his voice trailed off.

"Melissa," I finished for him, holding out my hand as a formal introduction. His hand shook mine firmly, a smile showing his dimples as they appear on his cheeks.

"Bye Lissa!" My heart swelled at the nickname I had been given by her. The child's chubby arms stretched out to hug me, and I accepted quickly, hugging her back tightly.

"Thank you for hanging out with her for a while," he thanked me, shifting Riley on his opposite hip, still holding her throughout the conversation.

"It wasn't that long, but the pleasure was all mine," I said, glancing at the little, chubby cheeked girl who was grinning from ear to ear with a smile. The boy nodded before looking at the girl on his hip and walking down the hall. I sighed and began making my way around the hall to find another place to explore.

Edited: 15 October 2016