Title: The Walk

[swirlsofpurple]

 

Petra stands at the beginning of The Walk, taking deep measured breaths. She’s ready, she has to be ready, she’s been practicing- timing herself to get her pacing right- slow enough to not get worn out, fast enough to pass the check-points. She clenches her fists. This is her only chance to get out of the Bad Lands. She can’t afford to fail.

Flamboyant music introduces The Announcer, who begins the same decades old rote speech,

“Welcome citizens! Today is the day for The Walk. The history of this tradition dates back to the aftermath of world war three, which had resulted in the air of many areas becoming inhospitable- these areas were dubbed the Bad Lands. Our forefathers saw clearly that the fight over the Good Lands could instigate another unwanted war and so to prevent this, The Walk was created. The Walk is a fair way to determine who lives where, everyone has an equal chance to succeed.”

Petra and her fellow Bad Lands brethren scoff at this, some yell in protest. Everyone knows the majority of people who reach level six and get to live in the Good Lands are people raised in the Good Lands, without two decades of poisonous air scarring their lungs.

The Announcer’s smile doesn’t dim at the reaction, they merely continue, “The Walk is not a race and does not require physical prowess, the time limit is only that of a reasonable walking pace, and there is no ranking, the only requirement to live in a levels area, is reaching that level. This is the ultimate fairness. Without further ado, let’s begin!”

Petra forces herself to walk slowly, heart already sinking for the ones she sees run ahead, too eager, too desperate, she wants to cling to them, say take me too, let’s fail together. Completion of level one isn’t much of a feat for most, it’s more about not wearing yourself out for the future ones, very few people live in level one and the ones who do don’t last long.

She keeps her stride steady as she reaches the level one completion check-point, even slows the movement of lifting her arm to place her wristband against the sensor. The sensor beeps and turns green. She takes a breath, looks around, and continues.

Warmth fills her as she realizes all of her brethren have also completed the level. None of them will be relegated to the worst of places this time.

Level two doesn’t pose too much difficulty for her. She watches some of her brethren begin to struggle though, panting and pausing for breaths. And Petra sees the people from the good lands moving past them, rolling their eyes at their dramatics, or tutting at their laziness, or snickering at their misfortune. She grits her teeth to keep from reacting, she can’t expend the energy, as much as she’d love to give them a lecture on the privileges of unspoiled lungs.

There’ll be time to do that once she’s in the Good Lands. That’s her plan, to get there and join the protest efforts. Anything from the Bad Lands is ignored, but the people of level six (an almost even split of people from the Good Lands and Bad Lands) they at least have to pretend to listen to. The long-term plan is to put an end to The Walk.

Maybe if enough of them get to level seven someone will actually have to listen for real.

 
*

As Petra walks towards the level two completion sensor, she sees some people give up- including her friend Jiri, who gives her a sad smile which she returns in kind. Her heart is heavy with all she’s leaving behind. The light turns green.

Her chest begins to twinge, and she knows it’s not just her sorrow. No. It’s too soon, she can’t be wearing down already, slowing further is too risky though. She keeps her pace. She’s sweating, counts, forces her breaths to even. She has a plan. She just needs to stick to the plan.

Her brethren form a cacophony of coughing, panting, breathing attacks and throwing up. She wants to go to them, hold them, keep them with her. She keeps moving, further and further away. She wonders if this is transformation, if to get to the Good Lands she will need to be as unfeeling as the people there. That’s unfair she knows, even now there are some from the Good Lands looking in sympathy- though they are far out-weighed by those being cruel.

As her wristband meets the sensor and the light turns green for the third time, she realizes there are only a handful of people from the Bad Lands still in. It lands like a punch. She knew this would be the case. But standing here, surrounded, out of place. It hurts. Like some half-imagined girlhood dream of them all making it together has been ripped away.

 
*

The twinge in her lungs grows to an ache which in turn grows to a burn. She stops still for a moment, as though she could wish it away, but it persists. She keeps moving, represses the urge to sprint, to use whatever bandwidth her lungs will give her before it dissipates.

Her plan was to try to get to level seven. That’s no longer realistic. If she pushes herself that hard she likely won’t complete level four. Level six is still the Good Lands. She just needs to get to level six.

The burn grows, clawing its way around her chest and up her throat. She slows as much as she dares. Breathe in, breathe out, steady, steady, steady.

The light goes green. She’s completed level four. If she stops now she gets to live in level five: the borderlands. She’s out of the bad lands. Elation trills through her bones. She feels selfish for it. She would be next to useless in the borderlands: they have no voice. She can’t get here, abandoning everyone behind her, if she’s not going to be able to do anything worthwhile with it. If she’s not able to fight for them, this is only betrayal.

 
*

There’s a white-hot pain in her chest and dark spots in her vision. She’s still walking. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Her coughs feel like they’re trying to wrench out her soul. She stops and starts. And stops and starts. Breathing feels glass-laced.

Petra drops to her knees. She hears people cheering for her. She hears Jiri cheering for her. She chokes on a sob and climbs her way to standing.

She walks on- or some facsimile stumbling version of walking. She just has to complete this level. All she has to do is get to the end of this stretch. It’s in sight. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going.

So close now. So close. She falls to the ground, remains there, staring up. Then pulls herself to her hands and knees, and crawls.

Her lungs are trying to escape her body.

She’s at the sensor, but she can’t stand and it’s above her head. She reaches and reaches and reaches.

Her fingers grasping, crawling, clawing up the wall. Her wrist hits the sensor.

The light goes red.

Comments

[erulissedances]

Ouch - that final sentence. Such an effort, and all to no avail - she'll be able to live in Level 5 (if she survives the attempt), but Level 6 is that bait that all strive for and almost no-one actually reaches.

- Erulisse (one L)

[roina_arwen]

Aww, so close! Maybe living in level 5 for a year will enable her to reach level six the following year? Here’s hoping!

[ofearthandstars]

I really love the pacing and tension of this, it really drew me in, such that the last words fall so harshly, and the sense of failure is palpable. I really do think you could expand on this - I want to know more about Petra and Jiri and the world you've set up.

[swirlsofpurple]

Yeah definitely. Thank you :)

[swirlsofpurple]

Maybe, everything's open to interpretation, but she did say this was her only chance ;)

[swirlsofpurple]

Thank you, so glad you enjoyed the pacing and tension :)

I agree, I definitely think I could expand on it

[mollywheezy]

I was so hoping she would make it! The end was absolutely heart wrenching.

[swirlsofpurple]

Thank you :)

[banana_galaxy]

Ouch, what a sucker-punch of an ending. I think you created a very interesting world here. I think I'd be curious to know more about it.

[swirlsofpurple]

Thank you, so glad you liked the world :)

[troof_therry]

This is a really solid bit of short dystopian literature that excellently critiques the idea that, if we're all given the same contest, we should all be equipped to persevere according to our own determination.

Like the systems that measure the worthiness of people are designed by people who already consider themselves worthy. Great take on the prompt and a nice bit of thinky fiction.

[dsrmousey]

This hit me like a ton of bricks. It's like a metaphor for what we're doing in the hospital. I need to walk 300 feet continuously to 'prove' I can exercise my heart enough for surgery. I get to 200, but in my case it's not lungs. It's legs. I have a neurotic hip and two had knees. But the nurses have been order to walk with me more.
I feel so bad for Petra. But now she's in the borderlands. And there is always next year. Peace~~~D

[dadi]

Oh noooo... I was so hoping she'd get further! Breathtaking!

[alycewilson]

How disappointing! At least its slightly better than where she was. This kept me reading, wanting to know what happened.

[gunwithoutmusic]

Your original fiction is always SO GOOD - I love the worlds that you create, and the pacing of this is just perfect. You did a great job at building up and then just ripping it away right at the end; I felt it, that last sentence just hitting me like a ton of bricks. Really good job!

[swirlsofpurple]

Glad that came across well, thank you :)

[swirlsofpurple]

Glad it had an impact, thank you :)

That sucks about the hospital, I hope things get better for you

It's open for interpretation, but she did say it was her only chance

[swirlsofpurple]

Thank you :)

[swirlsofpurple]

So glad to hear it kept you wanting to know what happened, thank you :)

[swirlsofpurple]

This is such a lovely compliment, thank you :)