I walk into the building uninhibited. The beds are all but completely empty, but those remaining are still in their sheets. Running a finger along a dusty bedframe. My shoulders are tense but my feet are quick and quiet.
The same cannot be said about the others in my group.
Win, as they call him, all but parades down the beds, carrying his prize against his chest. Win contemplates something, probably how he got his trophy. I try not to look. I really do.
The guard is limp. Asleep, they tell me, only asleep. He will wake in the morning, but he will wake. He is dressed in the dirty rags identical that used to be my uniform. His mouth lulls open. A tooth is missing, the bloody tool used for the job stored in Win's belt. I do not dare look at his chest to see if it rises, if it will ever fall.
We reach the bunks of my family, their faces grim, frozen in their waking nerves. I nod to the others as they scurry away, hiding in places I have rehearsed with them a million times. I let my fingers relax as the last face melts away. It is calm.
Then all hell breaks loose.
The following challenges were completed during the writing exercise:
Begin Start typing to begin
Words Reach 50 words
Letter Use the letter W
Words Reach 100 words
Event Nothing interesting happens
Prop Include a pair of tongs
Character A thinking mortician
Letter Use the letter A
Words Reach 200 words
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