Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 84949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I also feel alone again.
It's odd. It's like when I'm asleep, I have someone else there with me. I remember most of my dream, too. Whoever it was in my dreams held me close and touched my cheek as I slept. They spoke to me while I dreamed—a dream within a dream—and I felt so happy and content.
I'm annoyed to wake up, and when Manda greets everyone in the room with a chirpy “good morning,” it takes everything I have not to snap at her and draw the blankets back over my head. "Come on, silly," Manda calls out. "You'll be late for breakfast if you drag your feet!"
I groan, but that gets me moving. My stomach growls and I remember that I haven't eaten much lately at all. The moment I stand up, the blood rushes to my head and spots swim before my eyes. I'm dizzy, so dizzy that I have to clutch the bed to stay upright.
"You okay?" asks one of the newcomers. Probably the one that ate my cornbread last night.
I nod, rubbing my forehead. "Just need a moment."
I'm oddly tempted to let the blackout take me and see if I can pick up my dream where I left off. I want that strange man to hold me in his arms again and whisper soft words in my ear. It was the best dream I've ever had, and a keen sense of loss hangs over me as I look at my surroundings.
My reality doesn't have a kind, caring man who protects me from the world. I'm alone and the best way to stay safe is to let myself be used as dragon bait. I bite back a sigh of frustration and take my panties off, heading out for the morning drill. Breakfast this morning is corn pancakes and I gobble my small portion down without even hesitating. Manda chats all through breakfast, talking merrily to our newcomers about life here in the panty project and what's expected of them. They're both quiet, letting Manda do all the talking, and normally I'd be more chatty myself, but I can't stop thinking about my dream.
It felt real, bugs and all.
I'm distracted all day, even when I go out with Evans and do my rounds. He tries to rouse me into conversation, but I guess I don't answer fast enough, and eventually he stops trying.
"You know what today is?" Manda asks smugly after we eat dinner—a thick tomato-based soup with greens and a bit of meat in it. I scrape my bowl clean and lick my fingers, but it still doesn't feel like enough. I can't help but notice our portions have been getting smaller, and I'm worried that we're heading for a famine. There are hunters that go out and look for meat near the fort, and there are gardeners in the fort itself. There are nomads that sell their wares here regularly. Food's never plentiful, but I thought the forts did okay.
Just like the appearance of the giant bugs, it's change, and I don't think change is good. Not anymore.
I don't share my worries with the others. Instead, I put on a cheery smile. "What's today?"
"Bath day!" Manda announces happily. She touches her braid, wrinkling her nose. "I am more than ready to clean this off."
I lick the last taste of dinner from my spoon absently. "I didn't realize it was Friday. All the days have been running together for me lately."
"Are you sleeping any better?" Manda asks me, a sympathetic look on her face. She knows I've been having difficulty.
"Actually last night, I slept like a baby." Maybe it's all because my subconscious made up a protector for me, but I'll take it. "First real sleep in a long time."
Dina leans in, whispering. "Is it true what they said about bath night? That we can make coin?"
I wince inwardly. Everyone's got their own reasons for being in the program, just like everyone has their own ideas as to what “safety” means. I'm here because I've run out of other options. If I'm not in the program, I'll have to either rustle up a man somehow and live like Bethany, hoping that my husband will throw me a few scraps, or I'll have to show up, hat in hand, to the whorehouse and hope that I can make a few barter coins there.
Some girls take the safety of the program and also try to make coins on the side. The men aren't allowed to touch us except on Friday night, when the more enterprising girls make extra coins just before taking a bath. Once we're clean, all bets are off. But just before? It's the favorite night for a lot of people around here—soldiers and girls both.
It's my least favorite. I'm still a virgin. My dad protected me when we were nomads, and now that I'm in the fort, I landed here. I've been lucky to avoid being molested so far, but it also makes me reluctant to hook up for money, no matter how nice that money might be.