I push up my rounded, clear coloured glasses and put in my nose ring. I tuck my long pink hair into my hat. I leave my room and get ready for a new day, after staring at my silver coloured eyes and wishing they were brown for the umpteenth time.
I walk through the grimy halls that, since I was four, has become my home. The windows show nothing but dirt or pipes, living underground isn't exactly the Hollywood experience. I look down to my tattoo, my barcode. The Lesbian flag. Most people hate it, but I don't. It's a reminder that it can always be worse. I remember getting it for the first time, when me and the rest of the four year olds in my year got tested, our minds invaded by strange scientists. I remember staring at the screen, waiting with my mother for my results. I remember her crying, shouting and pleading to let me be when the screen flashed the flag, the flag imprinted on the inside of my left wrist. I remember my mother being dragged out by security. I remember the necklace she dropped. I remember picking it up. Most importantly, I remember the cages. They stared at us, tested us like zoo animals. I remember the night we escaped, a band of inside allies helped the majority of us escape and led us into the underground base where we stayed, where we still are. I remember my first inside mission when I was 15, only last year, I remember driving the big white van full of terrified four-year olds. I remember the faces of the ones we missed, the ones who didn't have such a happy fate as the rest of us.
I shake the memory from my mind as I jog up the steep, dirty steps and into our leader, Josephine's office. I knock sharply. I hear a very cheerful, "come in!" and I enter.
Her wrinkle ridden face lights up as she sees me,
"Mercury! Happy birthday!" she says. Yup, that's my name, weird I know. When we got here no one knew our name, the scientists referred to us as numbers, so we got to pick new names, if we wanted to. Four-year-old me had a huge obsession with space at the time, hence I got stuck with Mercury.
"Thanks," I say, slightly embarrassed as a group of girls giggle at me from the door. Jo had become like a mother figure for me, she had been the one to carry me out of my cage, the cage that was my waiting room for extermination. She reaches into a drawer in her big wooden desk and pulls out a small parcel and a letter stuck to it. I know how hard this must've been to get, we have to get people from outside to help us, a risky thing to say the least.
"Jo! You didn't have to, thank you…" I say smiling and open the card first, on the first said 'Happy sixteenth!' in big, pink writing, and a 16 badge attached to it. Inside I recognise her loopy handwriting;
Dearest, Mercury,
Happy birthday! We are all so proud of how far you have come, and the responsibility you have taken on teaching and guiding the newcomers each year.
With love,
Josephine xxx
I hug her tightly without speaking, I step back, and I catch a glimpse of her tattoo, a bisexual flag faded by the years of responsibility and pain.
"Here go on, open it!" she presses the small parcel into my hand. I carefully undo the yellow ribbon and tear through the paper, open the small box and I have to blink back tears. A silver ring made with touching infinity signs. I hug her again and thank her profusely. I slide my new ring onto my thumb.
She ushers me away and I walk through the halls, which don't seem and grimy suddenly. I get to the small cafeteria and find my group of friends waiting.
"Hey!" I say as I sit down and swing my legs over the bench, their faces light up,
"Murry!" says my best friend Noah. Murry is the nickname he gave me when we first met. He's a year older than me but acts like a five year old most of the time.
And I may have exaggerated on the friends part, it is, more accurately, friend.
"Happy birthday!" he says and slides over a slice of cake he must have smuggled out the cafeteria yesterday. I smile gratefully at him and we share the cake.
"Any newbies today?" asks Noah with a mouth full of cake. Since I arrived the survivors have been less and less, the security on the lab had increased heavily. I shake my head. In total, our population is around 1200, not bad for the lengths it takes to rescue people but not as many as we should have.
We finish eating and start walking slowly down the halls, getting ready for the worst part of my day, the part that makes living in a bunker seem desirable, that makes sunflowers shrivel when they think of it, the bane of my existence; maths.
"We need two volunteers to collect the food!" shrills my Scottish teacher. She looks ancient, like any minute she might just die of a heart attack or too much maths. My hand raises first, anything to get out of algebra. Another boy I recognise as Casper in the year above also has the same idea.
We leave the mould ridden room and walk along the silent halls.
"I'm Casper, by the way." He says, flicking his long blonde, surfer hair back as he gives me his hand to shake, I take it and spot his tattoo, a bisexual flag.
"Mercury." I say, he looks confused for a second,
"I had an obsession with space when I was a kid," I explain. I feel my necklace my mother dropped, in the shape of the planet Saturn.
"Oh, cool. I named myself Casper, like Casper the ghost." He says and grins stupidly. We reach the hole in the ceiling and climb up the rickety ladder. I reach the small platform above and give Casper a hand up.
"Ok, I'll hold them, you ask." I instruct Casper.
Slowly, I creak open the trapdoor that leads to the outside world, the world we aren't allowed to live in. I grab the person sitting against it with my arm against their throat.
"Name?" asks Casper, the most serious I've heard him.
"Anna," croaks the old woman.
"Password," Casper prompts,
"We live in cities." She recites, I let go of her throat and she passes down the bags of food.
"Thank you." I say as we close the door again, trapping us underground.
I climb down the ladder and Casper chucks the bags at me before climbing down himself.
We're met by security guards, they scan our tattoos and let us pass. It's to make sure we don't escape or swap places. I know this because of the time I tried to escape. I know it sounds bad, but you'd understand if you had to sit in an hour of that old bat trying to teach algebra!
"We should bake a cake!" says Casper, childlike and paces back and forth. I sigh and start putting away the groceries in the cafeteria cupboards and drawers, and a makeshift fridge one of the more intelligent people had managed to make out of trash and whatnot.
"What was your name before?" he asks, finally getting the message that we're not baking anything. I turn, hands on hips,
"None of your business, what was your name?" I snap, he looks downtrodden but springs up again and starts pacing excitedly.
"Christopher!" he says chirpily. I roll my eyes and shove the milk into the fridge and slam the door closed.
I walk back to algebra, annoyed. I'd have much rather done it myself, he was way too happy.
I know I make it sound all doom and gloom, but there are some perks of being banished underground. For instance in class on the register we're all given the choice to write down pronouns, and the local baker from the outside is an ally so we get the best cakes. And we get to dress however we want. Most of the clothes are hand-me-downs, but we can't win them all. And we have our own piercer and tattoo artist, not the barcode tattoo, a real one. And a good one at that.
Later that evening, I find myself feeling sad again, the memory of my screaming mother playing on repeat in my brain. Before I explode, I walk down one of our many secret tunnels that lead to drop off points and such. Tonight, I volunteered to pick up some new clothes and drop off ones that are beyond repairing. I heave the black bin back down the turn and through a narrow passageway. I climb the ladder and push open the trap door. I hold the person above by their throat.
"Name?" I ask,
"Jace," says a familiar voice,
"Password?" I say just too annoy him.
"Really, Mur? City of angels." He sighs, we change our password regularly.
I release him and help him through the door, which is technically forbidden, but I've known Jace since seven.
"Here." I say and hand him the bag,
"Cheers, and Happy Birthday," he says and nudges me, his golden hair slicks back and his chestnut brown eyes glint playfully. I have to remind myself that he's not much older than me, maybe seventeen, yet it feels like he's a younger brother of sorts.
"Thanks, how's it outside?" I ask, leaning against the dirty wall.
"The same, the government keeping a tight leash on everyone. How's life underground?"
"Same old." I say shortly. I hear Noah's voice echoing down the tunnel, I quickly help Jace up and he runs away as I shut the door.
I throw the bags on the floor below, narrowly missing Noah who lets out a yelp. I chuckle and hop down to land in front of him.
"Need some help?" he offers and takes two of the bags, I take the other two.
"We got a lot today," I state. Normally we're lucky to get one full bag, to get four is almost impossible.
"I know, hopefully there's lots for the younger ones, are you the driver again tomorrow?" he says, and I remember the rescue mission.
"Nope, I'm the nurse again." I say, that's always my favourite job, I get to sit with the younger ones in the back. I remember how much I appreciated it when I was rescued. I hope the kids still appreciate it.
"Last one back is a rotten egg!" he yells and starts sprinting down the corridor. I laugh as I chase after him, forgetting the memory that had consumed me earlier.