The price of comfort

Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Barracks

Della and Evie huddled together on the cold, hard floor of their small, bare room. Fear gnawed at their insides, their minds replaying the horrific scene of the man shot for trying to escape. The image of his blood splattering across the field was burned into their memories, a gruesome reminder of the brutality they were now trapped in.

Their stomachs growled, but there was no food. All that filled the room was a bunk bed with mattresses as hard as boards, a grimy toilet, and a sink with no soap. The air was thick with the stench of sweat and fear, and the silence was oppressive.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a tall, imposing figure stepped inside, casting a dark shadow over the room. The guard's expression was stern, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

"Get up," he barked, his voice echoing off the walls.

Della and Evie scrambled to their feet, their bodies trembling with fear. The guard motioned for them to follow him, and they walked out into the dimly lit corridor. The cold cement floors sent chills up their spines with each step.

As they walked, Della tried to take in her surroundings, but the oppressive atmosphere made it hard to focus. The building was a labyrinth of hallways, each one more desolate than the last. Eventually, they arrived at a large room, the air thick with tension and despair.

The barracks were filled with women, their faces etched with terror and exhaustion. Metal bunk beds lined the walls, and the cold cement floors added to the bleakness of the room. The sight of so many frightened women only deepened Della's sense of hopelessness.

The guard turned to address the room, his voice booming. "These two will be staying here. The women here will explain the routine. Do not cause trouble, and you will survive. Defy us, and you will end up like the man who tried to run."

His words hung in the air, a stark warning of the consequences of disobedience. The guard left, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving Della and Evie standing in the middle of the room, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

A woman with a kind but weary face stepped forward. Her hair was grey, and her eyes held a depth of sorrow that spoke of long years of suffering. She motioned for Della and Evie to follow her to an empty bunk.

"I'm Marta," she said softly. "Come, I'll explain everything you need to know."

They sat down on the edge of the bunk, the metal frame creaking under their weight. The mattresses were thin and unyielding, a far cry from the comfort they were used to.

"Welcome to hell," Marta began, her voice tinged with bitterness. "We are expected to follow a strict routine. We wake up at dawn, clean the barracks, and then line up for inspection. After that, we are given a small portion of food, usually just enough to keep us from starving. We spend the rest of the morning doing whatever tasks the guards assign us."

Della and Evie listened intently, their hearts heavy with the grim reality of their new lives. The fear in the room was palpable, and the sense of despair was overwhelming.

"In the afternoons, we have a few hours of free time," Marta continued. "We can go to the chapel, socialize, or just spend time doing whatever we want, as long as it's not trying to escape. This is the only reprieve we get from the constant surveillance and harsh treatment."

"Stick together and look out for each other," Marta continued. "That's the only way to survive here. The guards are cruel, and they won't hesitate to punish anyone who steps out of line."

As the night wore on, Della and Evie tried to find some semblance of comfort on the hard bunk. Sleep was elusive, their minds racing with thoughts of home and the friends they had been torn away from. The barracks were filled with the sounds of quiet sobs and the occasional murmur of a restless sleeper.

In the darkness, Della reached for Evie's hand, finding some solace in the small connection. "We'll get through this," she whispered, trying to convince herself as much as Evie. "We'll find a way out."

Evie squeezed her hand, her voice trembling. "I hope so, Della. I really hope so."

The first light of dawn crept through the small, barred window, casting long shadows across the room. The harsh reality of their situation was impossible to escape. As they prepared to face another day in the camp, Della vowed to stay strong and protect Evie at all costs.

The barracks came to life with the sound of shuffling feet and muted conversations. The women formed a line, their expressions vacant and resigned. Della and Evie followed suit, trying to blend in and avoid drawing attention to themselves.

The guards entered, their presence commanding immediate silence. They moved through the rows, inspecting each woman with a critical eye. When they reached Della and Evie, the guard who had brought them to the barracks sneered.

The days in the camp blurred together, each one a monotonous blend of fear and survival. Della and Evie clung to each other, drawing strength from their bond as they navigated the harsh routine. The mornings were filled with grueling tasks, their bodies pushed to the limit under the watchful eyes of the guards. The afternoons, though brief and often tense, offered a small reprieve—a chance to gather in the chapel or socialize cautiously, always under the looming threat of punishment.

Della couldn't shake the feeling of desperation. They were here legally, tourists who had made a simple mistake. Surely, if she could just explain their situation to one of the guards, they would be released. The thought gnawed at her, growing stronger with each passing day.

One afternoon, during their allotted free time, Della decided to act. She had spotted a guard who seemed slightly less intimidating than the others, though still stern. Summoning her courage, she approached him, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice trembling but determined. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

The guard turned to her, his expression a mix of boredom and annoyance. "What do you want?" he snapped.

Della took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "My friend and I are here legally. We left our passports at the hotel by mistake. If you could just check with the authorities or the hotel, you'll see we're not supposed to be here. Please, we're not criminals."

The guard's eyes narrowed, his lip curling into a sneer. "Do you think I care about your sob story?" he growled. "You're here now, and that's all that matters."

"Please," Della begged, her voice breaking. "Just check. It will only take a moment. We don't belong here."

The guard stepped closer, towering over her. "I said, I don't care," he hissed. "Now get back in line before you regret it."

Tears welled in Della's eyes, but she refused to back down. "Please," she whispered, her voice desperate. "You have to believe me."

The guard's expression darkened. With a swift, brutal motion, he grabbed her by the collar and shoved her against the wall. The cold metal of his gun pressed against her forehead, right between her eyes. Della's breath caught in her throat, her entire body trembling with terror.

"You listen to me," the guard said, his voice low and menacing. "This is your only warning. Speak out of turn again, and I will squeeze this trigger without a second thought. Do you understand?"

Della nodded, too frightened to speak. The guard's eyes bored into hers for a moment longer before he released her, shoving her away. She stumbled back, nearly falling, but caught herself just in time.

"Now, get out of my sight," the guard snarled. "And remember, you only get one warning."

Della backed away, her heart racing and her vision blurred with tears. She turned and hurried back to where Evie and the other women were gathered, her mind reeling from the encounter.

Evie rushed to her side, her face pale with worry. "Della, what happened? Are you okay?"

Della shook her head, unable to speak. She collapsed onto the bunk, her body shaking with sobs. The other women gathered around, offering what comfort they could, but the fear and despair were overwhelming.

As night fell, Della lay awake, the guard's cruel words echoing in her mind. She had hoped for a glimmer of mercy, but all she had found was more brutality. The reality of their situation weighed heavily on her, crushing any remaining hope she had clung to.

But even in the darkest moments, a small spark of determination burned within her. She would not give up. She couldn't. For Evie, for herself, and for the faint hope that one day they would find a way out of this nightmare.

The camp's routine continued to grind them down, but Della's spirit remained unbroken. She would endure, she would survive, and somehow, she would find a way to reclaim their freedom. For now, all they could do was hold on to each other and wait for the next opportunity, no matter how slim, to escape the horrors of the camp.