Vignette: This is Where the Bad People Go.

My leg was aching from nerves. It always does in times of stress, a constant reminder of how different my life’s path would have been without it. The Faith protect me in my time of sin, and lead me back onto the path of righteousness.
There were no windows, the only light from flickering fluorescents up above me, casting everything in a washed out blue light.The walls of this room needed a new layer of paint long ago, dust had gathered on the floor and edges of cracked wall paint and flakes of it were laying on the floor in small dust piles. The bare areas they left behind them were rusted metal and little dark red flecks from it peppered the floor. On the table was a cup of water, I had been given, the surface rippled for the entire Forman Headquarters shivered with electricity and activity. I hadn’t touched the water, and small flakes of dust and rust had already began to gather on the surface.
My hands were on my thighs, and I breathed long and slow, my eyes were closed and so I didn’t see the little girl stand up out of the shadows from the corner of the room and approach me. After hearing the pit-pattering of her feet through the dirt and dust, my eyes snapped open. She halted midway through a step. She was barefoot, her feet dirty and calloused from much use. Her hair was separated into two tangle braid, where more hair was sticking out more than in them. There were tear streaks cutting a clean path down the dirt on her face. Her toes wiggled, but the rest of her stayed still, waiting for me to react. She was wearing a large shirt that fell past her knees, striped yellow and navy, a brown ribbon tied around her waist so it almost looked like dress.
The girl and I stared at each other before I moved, groaning as my left twinged from the effort, as I lowered myself to the floor.
“Don’t be afraid,” I cood, holding out a hand to her, “I’m not going to hurt you.” She relaxed, stepping closer.
“Are you dangerous, Mr.?” Were the first words out of her mouth, she had an accent, similar to that of a foremen’s.
“Why would you say that?” I asked, lowering my hand, but staying in my kneeling position, which caused my bad leg to throb.
“Because this is where they bring all the bad people.” She answer, looking down at hre hands.
“Bad people? Then what are you my dear?” I asked quietly, and inched closer to her.
“I’m bad,” she answered and lowered her head, “They said I ate too much,” she wiggled her toes again.
“Ah.” Things clicked into place, “Did you eat another family’s food?”
“No, no the, the Eko- Ekonis--” She licked her lips, trying to get her tongue around the unfamiliar words. “The new people.” She reached into her pocket and held out something small. I took it, turning it over. It was a small hard sphere, green crinkly plastic wrapped around it and twisted at both ends. There was something written on the label, but not in a script I had ever seen. “They gave it to me.” She pulled out another, this one wrapped in red plastic, and popped the sphere inside (also red) into her mouth.
I looked at the ceiling, looking for security cameras, but the only one was cracked, hanging just from its wires. I disrobed the small orb, it was green, and put it into my mouth. At first, I nearly spat it out, my head spun, it was sweet and tart. I coughed, but rolled the sphere around my mouth, adjusting to the strong flavors. “C-candy.” She told me. “What’s your name Mr.?”
“Oval,” I answered, unsquinting my eyes from the candy. “What about you?”
“Anya,” She smiled then, holding out a grimy hand, “Nice to meet you Mr. Oval.” I took her tiny hand in my large rough fingers, shaking it as delicately as I would a toddler’s. How’d you end up here?”
I hesitated.
“I, I am not sure,” I answered. “I’m from Sector 5.” She gasped, eyes popping. Her reaction spurred me on. “Yes, a long way off, nearly half way across the Dome. I came here with a Formen, I am a Wall worker and a teacher of others. I requested to learn more, so I could uphold my edge of the wall, so they brought me here for training. I always wished I was chosen to be a Foreman, but alas. I was excited to see Sector 1, and walk the paths that the Prophet walked. I saw his footsteps, paved in black through the community...And I wanted to walk in his shoes, so I stepped onto the monument.”
Anya covered her mouth with both hands and shook her head vigorously.
“No one can do that!” She said. “It’s bad! It’s very bad!”
“I know that now,” I answered and clasped my hands in a small prayer, “I know my sins, I know my wrongs, the Prophet forgive me, the Dome protect me from myself.”
Anya listened me pray, eyes unblinking and joined me in crossing myself afterword.
“The Eko- Ekonans-” she began, stumbling over the name again, “they say that praying doesn’t help people. People help people.”
“Do you mean, Ekonian?” I asked, “you’ve met them?” Anya’s eyes lit up and she nodded.
“Uh huh! They are really nice and they gave me the candy and they like to teach me things and they-” she deflated, “they are the ones that got me in trouble,” she deflated further, “they gave me candy, and they gave me some of their food. I brought it home, and my mommy and daddy were eating it with me, but then the neighbors thought we had stolen it and the formen came said mommy and daddy were really bad. They didn’t believe me when I said that we didn’t steal anything!” Her speech had become more rapid throughout this explanation and her eye filled with tears, “They were gonna go check the rations to make sure we didn’t take too much and no one else was starving. I was really bad, to bring them food. Mommy and daddy were in here before, but they took them out to talk to them.”
I thought about my wife in my home sector, her stomach swelled with our unborn child. “It sounds like a big misunderstanding,” I soothed, reaching forward and wiping a tear away from her eye. “The foremen aren’t bad, they just want to make sure everyone is fed.”
The door to the room unlocked and opened, and a formen walked in, a man and a woman walking in behind them. Anya rushed over to the woman who gathered her up in her arms.
“Everything is okay sweetie,” she crooned, rocking her daughter, “everything is okay, we are free to go.”