I continued walking through the long stone corridor until I reached the house with Mrs. Nimal. Evening had already begun to settle over the place. When we stopped in front of the door, she turned to me with a warm smile and said before leaving, still tugging the boy by his ear,
"Send my regards to your mother, little one."
I nodded and watched her walk away, then opened the door and stepped inside. The smell of warm food filled the house, but my mind wasn't there. I was still lost in that scene I had witnessed beyond the wall in that abandoned district so different from anything I'd ever known. I couldn't erase the image from my mind, the faces of the people there.
I washed my face in the small sink, wiped off the dirt, then changed my clothes, trying to look normal. My mother was in the kitchen chopping vegetables. I tried to smile, but my mind was still stuck outside.
That evening, we sat together as usual at the small dining table. My father sat in the middle, wearing his uniform, and my mother opposite him, while I sat between them. It was the same routine as always. My mother asked him about his day at work, and he replied, "Nothing special, just some patrols."
I ate in silence, watching their faces. Finally, I couldn't hold my curiosity any longer and said,
"Dad?"
He turned to me with a smile.
"Yes, my little angel?"
I hesitated for a moment before asking,
"What's outside those walls?"
My mother's expression changed instantly. She set her fork down and looked at me sharply,
"Diana, don't ask such questions."
"Why not?"
She didn't answer, only glanced at my father as if begging him to change the subject. But he cleared his throat and replied,
"Outside, there are the rest of the Lower District's residents."
"And why do they live there? Why don't they live here with us?"
"Because this place is reserved for police officers and those in charge of managing the Lower District, that's all."
"Why?"
He was about to answer, but my mother interrupted quickly, forcing a smile onto her face,
"There's no need for so many questions, dear. The people outside live good lives too. This area was simply built for the police and their families, nothing more."
She was lying. I knew it. I had seen the outside with my own eyes those broken buildings, those poor faces. There was nothing "good" about that life. But I stayed silent. I didn't respond and didn't want to reveal that I had gone beyond the wall without permission.
After dinner, I went up to my room and changed clothes. I tried to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, the images of the outside returned. I tossed and turned late into the night. I couldn't understand why my mother had lied to me, or why my father seemed so intent on avoiding the subject.
...
The next day, I went out to the garden as I always did in the morning, but I didn't join the other children to play. I had only one goal in mind to find that boy. Luckily, it didn't take long. After a few minutes, I spotted him carrying the same black sack, walking carefully toward the wall.
I watched him from a distance, but as soon as he noticed me, he tried to run. I chased him with everything I had. He was faster, but luck was on my side when he tripped near the stone wall. I caught him before he could escape.
"If you don't let me go with you, I'll tell Mrs. Nimal that you cross the wall."
When he saw how determined I was, he sighed deeply and said,
"As you wish. But we have to move quickly we can't be late like last time."
He said that, then crouched down toward the hole in the wall and crawled through it. I followed him. We passed through the wall again, and once we were on the other side, he pulled from the black sack the same old robes from yesterday and handed one to me without a word.
I put it on quickly, then grabbed some dirt from the ground and smeared it on my face. When he saw me doing that, he struggled to suppress his laughter and said with a crooked smile,
"You know, that really wasn't necessary."
"Didn't you do the same thing to me last time?"
He chuckled softly,
"Oh, that was just my way of getting back at you indirectly."
Before I could respond, he raised his hand in a quiet gesture for me to stay still. From a distance, a carriage passed through the gate. We hid behind the corner of the wall, watching it until it disappeared over the horizon.
Then we continued walking until the outline of the distant city appeared before us. We kept going until we reached the abandoned factory the same place we had visited yesterday. We slipped through the crack in the wall.
As soon as we entered, the boy shouted,
"Adam! I'm here!"
But unlike yesterday, no answer came. His expression darkened as he walked toward a heap of metal scraps piled up ahead. I watched him as he called out again,
"Adam? Where are you?"
There was no sign of him. The boy sat down on the ground, exhaled deeply, then said to me,
"We'll wait for him here. I'm sure he just went out and will be back soon."
I sat beside him, leaning against the wall. The only sound was the wind rattling through the broken windows. Before long, worry was written all over his face. His leg bounced nervously, then he stood and began pacing back and forth, hands in his pockets, head bowed.
We heard a faint rustling from the hole in the wall. We both turned toward it, and then Adam crawled through. His clothes were torn, his face covered in bruises and dark stains. The boy immediately ran to him, and I followed. We grabbed him from both sides and helped him sit against the wall.
Adam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Seeing that, the boy reached into his pocket, pulled out a small piece of candy, and handed it to him. Adam took it and put it in his mouth, and slowly, some color began to return to his face.
Once he finished the candy, he opened his eyes again and adjusted his posture until he managed to stand with the help of the wall.
The boy asked,
"Who did this to you, Adam?"
Adam replied, trying to sound strong,
"Nothing important, just a little fight with some thugs, that's all."
"A little fight? I don't think a 'little fight' would leave you looking like that!"
Adam said nothing. He simply looked away in silence. Then his eyes fell on the black sack near the door. He walked over, opened it, and took out the food inside. Then he sat on the ground and began eating hungrily.
We both just watched him, unsure what to say. I looked at his hand, barely able to lift each bite to his mouth, and wondered… what kind of life did these children live beyond the walls?
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