𝟎𝟎𝟖. the worst is yet to come

2.4K 98 82
                                    

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

˗ˏˋ andrea madden'ˎ˗

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

˗ˏˋ andrea madden'ˎ˗

I BEGRUDGINGLY WORE the new uniform Warner left for me in my office days ago. Now, I was patrolling around the area with two soldiers on both sides. I was armed – as always – yet he still had these two ordered to follow me everywhere. Yeah, Warner ordered them. The one who claims not to care – the one who told me to step back before he snapped my neck.

God, I could feel myself getting worked up at the mere thought of him. He was just taunting me to step out of line now. He wanted to get me in trouble – probably to tattle on his daddy who'll then tell mine. But I wouldn't. Mostly because I knew what would happen if I did. I wouldn't get beat – no, my father was more creative. He'd laugh in your face if you'd assume his punishment to be as simple as a beating.

It would start with a banishment to the basement, the very place that's haunted my time of rest for all my youth. Then, it would undoubtedly turn to another hunt even if I had just returned from my birthday celebration. After coming back barely alive, I am positive there would be something else awaiting me. My father would strip me from my humanity before considering a beating. I would suffer alone for weeks until he finally allowed me to recover, only to then resort back to another week in the basement. Isolated. My own thoughts would suffocate me as I never had the opportunity to dream of fairy tales, never had the chance to get lost in my own thoughts because of the reality swallowing me whole. My fathers expectations – the ones he deemed to pursue for his son, but obviously he never got one – my mothers fake sincerity, and my sister's sickness. My time here has allowed me to slow down, even for a second, but knowing all those duties wait for me when this is over keeps me from truly sticking to my role. I don't want to return to that life – to the fight for survival from my own parents.

My heels clicked onto the pavement as I made my finale round around the village before spotting the exit back to sector 45. I could hear the laughter of the children, the bargaining of the adults with their shops, the wind aggressively thrashing against the bushes and trees. With one final goodbye, I turned and left, presuming the place secure.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄 ★ A. WarnerWhere stories live. Discover now