BEYOND THE WALLS: sect. 1: Many Gifts

MANY GIFTS

         Panda ran as fast as she could.
         She could just see her brothers chewing her out for being so late fr
om school-- several hours late. Honestly, she'd tried to get a job so that at least some financial pressure could be taken off of the elder two, but no one would hire a part-time fifteen-year old anymore. And now, after failing again, she'd have to go home and face her brothers again. What was going to be the explanation this time? Traffic? She took the school bus, so it was bogus. Friend hold-up? She had no friends-- bogus.
The truth could work, but then she'd have to listen to a lecture about how she shouldn't have to worry about the family's money, that they could do it themselves, just the two of them, blah blah blah.

'Bull,' Panda thought, and she kept running.

There were barely any people left on the street; curfew was close.

'Keep going; almost there,' Panda told herself.

The looming brick building, marked with faded yellow numbers, came rushing around the corner as Panda put one foot infront of another. The plexiglass door squealed as she pushed it open, the flourescent lights blinking as she walked in. A shabby elevator with an OUT OF ORDER sign welcomed her home again. The door off to the left led to the emergency staircase, the window and door to the right leading to a vacant office-like room that had been gutted in its early years. Panda stared in curiosity at the vandalized door for a moment before taking the stairs.
People would graffitti several places in the building, including that door, to show other tenants exactly how they felt. It often led to public fights, and afterward, especially if the police came and broke it up, she would never see any of those people again. They just disappeared.

Panda remembered when the younger of elder brothers, Yokori, had nearly gotten into a fight. He did tend to be a little overprotective. The guy who'd actually thrown a punch disappeared the next day. Panda had always been thankful that her eldest brother, Pollux, had some control over him; if he hadn't, Yokori probably would've gone full out into fighting. He would've disappeared, too.

'But he didn't,' Panda thought, and she opened the door leading to the hallway on the thirteenth floor.

Things were quiet-- way too quiet.
The bad feeling boiled in her stomach, but she ignored it and put the key into the doorknob of Room 1302. The lights overhead flickered again, and the door opened.
The lights were broken in this room, so it was dark.

"Panda--"

The tall, blue-eyed sillouette collapsed onto the floor.
A blonde woman, whom Panda didn't recognize, stood infront of him. There hadn't even been a sound when the woman killed him, and Panda felt as if she'd vomit, when she noticed the blood on the walls. The woman turned to Panda, murder staining her black eyes, and lifted the gun in her left hand to be level with the child's shoulders.

Panda ran.

Bullets richochetted off the concrete walls as she ducked and stumbled back toward the stairs. She thrust the door open, running as fast as she could. Floors and their numbers rushed by in darkened blurs, but the trip down had never seemed so long.

Her brothers were dead. Her brothers were dead.

She was never going to see them again. She was never going to come home from school and see their faces angry or sympathetic or  absolutely happy, ever again. She was never going to taste their poor attempts at cooking, or watching them play- wrestle each other to the floor, or hear them argue (which she missed even now, realising that that was gone forever, too). Not ever.

'Oh my god,' were the words that circled through her head and out of her mouth. There was just nothing else to say.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Panda burst out of the front entrance, cool night air rushing into her face and lungs. The street was empty, leaving no witnesses to her embarrassing stumble over the three steps that led to the sidewalk, not that it really mattered at the moment. She was just glad to be out of the reach of her almost- murderer.

Then, the electricity shut off.

Every light, every radio, every toaster-oven in the city surged with brightness, noise, or heat for a split second, and everything went dark. Silent.

Slightly stunned, Panda stood where she was, shivering when she heard the door to the building automatically lock its deadbolts. Was the woman locked inside? Panda hoped so, but what if she killed someone else who lived there? There were kids in there.
The fear and worry were overcome with a familiar sort of doubt-- especially when the person she was concerned with ended up being right behind her.

Panda felt the woman's hot breath on the back of her covered neck, a cold sweat reminding her of the nightmares she'd been having that were similar to this. She swallowed as quietly as she could and bolted straight forward. A sharp hand gripped the back of her jacket and shirt, and Panda was yanked backward and to the ground. The back of her head thwacked heavily against the cement, sending her mind reeling with confused and dizzied thoughts.

'Oh shit, oh shit. What the do am I going to hell? Is she kill me gonna? Oh shit; ain't good it...'

You might laugh at the unintentional stupidity, but it most certainly wasn't funny at the time.

There was no way for Panda to tell if she'd passed out or not-- things were already dark and quiet-- but one minute, she could tell that there was a high chance that she would die, and the next, death didn't seem so iminent. Not to mention that she could've sworn she'd heard a growl and some cursing before double- blacking out.