His Sour Lemon #3.1

Part 20: A Date To Die For

CHAPTER 20: A Date To Die For

November 19th, 2031.
6:18 pm, Outskirts of New York City, America.
Fitzgerald Institute for Troubled Youth.

I should have shaken his hand.

Sampson knew the ins and outs of this place like the back of his hand, my suffering told me it would be worse to include him in the agony I experienced just by waking up and wishing I had died long ago. Elizabeth Zoysia had once again whipped me for finding defeat in my twentieth fight, in a row. I made her millions, and she fought back for cutting the line in just one night.

I was chained and kept in some sort of underground dungeon, with only a toilet, and a dirty mattress riddled with bugs. My hands were rough on the rustic metal bars between me and the door to my escape. She stared at me, like watching someone cleanly cut the head off a cow, she was expressionless and yet disappointed.

"You had one job." She says, she always says.

I stare at her. I was almost twelve years old, and she was angry, because while I looked as big as a sixteen year old, I wasn't good enough, "I don't want to fight anymore." I beg of her, a croak in my voice from the imminent screaming that echoed.

She stares at me, "You still have not learned your lesson, Edmund. When you have, you will be let out." She walks away, my eyes blur at her steps as I dump my head on the bars. I didn't know what she wanted, I was trying my best to survive.

"What's your name?" I hear a croak from the other side of the room.

"Edmund." My voice echoes.

"Thank you for speaking to me before I have to die." He croaks out again. No, I can't again. I can't go through staring at someone else's soul be parted from this world too early. I couldn't. Not again. NOT AGAIN.

I cry, like a helpless little boy, "Please don't!"

There was no reply.

******

April 25th, 2042.
11:02 pm, London, United Kingdom.
Advanced Business Engagements Academy (Private Business Institution), Sylvan Lakeshore.

Elbows on knees, my left knee jiggles as I sit in the edge of the bed, contemplating whether this is the best idea, before she steps out, looking irresistible as always, I step up and towards her, "I won't be long." I whisper close to her hair. She nods to me in acknowledgment before I move inside, her skin under my fingers wanting me to hold on longer, as if urging me too, since they were so use to the feel of rustic metal bars.

When I finished with the shower and brushing my teeth with a spare blue toothbrush, I stepped out, flicking the light off with careless nonchalance, but there was nothing about watching her body rise and fall on the bed, she was closing in on sleep when I moved forward and sat down gently, reaching over, her skin was so soft, I was almost completely envious of the touch when I see I have startled her, "I'm sorry." I whisper in apology, eyes staring deeply into her purple alien ones and finding that I wished I could lose myself in them, but I felt choked with my lies.

"It's alright." She murmurs in a barely audible manner.

I gulp and sigh in defeat, "Goodnight, lemon." I stare at her, leaning down, brushing my lips tortuously against her shoulder, kissing her Goodnight, before I lift off the bed and she reaches for my hand, I still and turn, hitch a breath and almost faint by the loss of air.