Flash: The Mark of the Unbroken

The Mark of the Unbroken

by Amelia Robinson

April 16, 2013
Sweetest Dark Orphan Flash Contest, Figment.com

Prompt: In 250 words or less, write a scene about an orphan.

Description: A girl standing in line to be Marked an orphan witnesses the discovery of a boy from the outside.

Thirty seconds before I fainted.  My stomach rolled; colors blurred; my hearing went fuzzy.  My eyes roved: a frowning, grubby face, a patch of cracked sidewalk, burned brick buildings.  I swallowed thickly.  Don’t pass out.  Don’t pass out.

Feet shuffled.  The line moved up.  A boy moved past me holding his wrist.  I shut my eyes hard.  Underneath his hand was his brand new Mark, a tattoo everyone got to display their worth.  We were all here to get the same Mark:

An O for Orphan.

Worthless.  My head swam.  I forced myself to stumble forward a step in line.  It was better than being Void.  No Marks for them.  Just tossed over the Wall.  If they were lucky, they died in the disease infested wasteland.  If they weren’t, they were infected with the wild: they became lawless and brutal.  They became Unbroken.

Almost my turn.  My stomach wobbled.  I could see the shoddy tattooer wrench the next boy’s arm closer and yank his sleeve over his elbow.  I blinked.  The boy’s skin was tanned, his arm leanly muscled.  Not right.

He turned back to look at us, his profile all shadowed angles.  He gave us a not-quite-there smile; it put hope in my belly like fresh milk.  Then he hitched his sleeve all the way up, over his shoulder.

There, on his bicep, was a different kind of Mark, made of bold lines, like him.

U.  For Unbroken.