The Runaway Cheat

Chapter 31

Marilyn Harrison

Death is dark yet calm.

Have you ever been so close to death that the hope of coming back was nonexistent? But I did; I survived. And I was never the same again.
Yet, the opportunity is here once more.
Death is here again.

For me, and this time, Death approaches again, and I find myself hoping it claims victory.
I am not suicidal; I never intended to take my own life. But if death comes for me, I won't dodge its grasp. I'll accept it with the bravery of my papa's little princess. Surprisingly it arrived earlier than expected. I've lost so much that even disappointment seldom knocks on my door , for expectation ceased to accompany me long ago.

"Why did you do this, Mara? I am so disappointed in you."

They asked me to stand brave and keep fighting. So I did—over and over again. Even when I fell, I stood up and fought once more. I never considered sitting down as an option because they never had that option. They were never given a reason, never allowed the chance to brace for impact.

Then, how could I?

But—but I want to sit down, to draw breath without the weight of suffocation. Is it so wrong of me to ask that? Don't I deserve that?

"I thought you're different from your family," a voice kept saying words that stopped making sense to me long ago. "You were supposed to be the good one!"

Gradually, the blur that shrouded my surroundings lifted, revealing the face of the man who spoke. It was him. The man who took everything from me, until I was left with nothing more than a vessel of flesh wandering around, hoping to find a reason that justifies its survival.

But it was he who was meant to await the end, not I. This was the battle I was supposed to win. Yet here I am, defeated again and once more, I failed to feel the pride of victory.

But I wanted to laugh. I yearned to laugh until all my tears streamed down my face. So I laughed, loudly and hysterically, attracting stares from many around me as one would look at a deranged dog. But I didn't mind because it's what I wanted to do, and I was doing it.

"Only a truly foolish man like you would expect someone to obey you after you've killed every last one of their family."
"Foolish?"
"Yes, foolish. So incredibly foolish. Do you really think I worked for you out of fear? No, no, no! You are the very last person I would ever fear."
"Is that so? Because your begging and pleading to be saved seemed to suggest otherwise."

'Please, don't do that,' my broken voice barely audible amid my incessant trembling. 'Uncle Sam, please don't—I've called you my uncle all my life, I'm your daughter's friend. How could you? How can—can you?' Disbelief, fear, and horror envelop me as I try to shield my barely covered body from the onslaught of these men. There are so many of them, I lose count. 'Please—please, get away from me."

A loud, sinister laugh echoes in response to my pleas. The monsters surrounding him joined in his amusement, until I became numb to my surroundings.
'Please, don't.'
But that doesn't stop him from sending more men into the cell where I'm tied, watching with twisted delight as they strip away every last shred of my sanity.

Memories are a curse that humanity must bear. For some, it's a jolly curse, while others are haunted every night for years, unable to escape its grasp.

Samuel's face lingers as he waits for me to revert to my old self: a fearful pet hoping for survival, foolishly trusting that everything will be fine as long as she listens to her master.

How utterly disappointing you were, Mara.

I finally say, meeting his gaze squarely. "I begged you. But did you listen?" A smile tugs at my lips as my eyes remain locked on his. "You didn't, and that's when you sealed your fate. You'll meet a death that no human can imagine. You'll beg and plead, just as I did, but—unfortunately—there won't be anyone to hear you. You'll die—or rather, you'll disappear like insignificant dust."

But as I expected, he merely smiles at my warning. "And who'll ensure my ending? You? I'm afraid you'll be disappointed to hear that your story ends here today."

When I continue to stare at him, refusing to show the fear he expects, he continues, "Do you remember what I said back then, little Mara?"
'You are my pawn. Your ending will be decided by me just like your use.'

"You are my pawn. Your ending will be decided by me, just like your use," Samuel repeats his exact words. But this is not the same Mara. I'll never be that Mara again.

"Even if I die today, your fate is inevitable. Your fate is already sealed, and no one—I mean no one—can save you from the burning hell, Samuel."

"You're still being stubborn, aren't you? This is your last chance, Mara. Beg me. Beg me on your knees to save you, and I might change my mind." Samuel's expectation of loyalty is utterly hilarious.

I spit at his face, "Fuck you, Samuel," before grinning at his shocked expression.

It took him a second to grasp what had just occurred, and when he did, he raised his hand, and I knew the familiar pain before it even reached my face. "You brought this upon yourself." He uttered, his words a harsh echo in the air before his slap touch my face.

And then, the last glimmer of light faded before darkness enveloped me.

This is it, this is the end.

And suddenly, I felt someone lifting me up. They were speaking loudly, yet their words were lost in the chaos. Soon, darkness and silence embraced me once more.

Brightness assaulted my vision again, forcing me to open my eyes. Before me stood a man: Ridge. But he wasn't supposed to be here.

"Everything is going to be fine, Mara. Just keep your eyes open, okay?" His voice, soft and tender, reached my ears, tinged with fear. "I won't let anything happen to you. You're safe, baby. You're safe," he repeated, his words a comforting mantra. But I was too weary to keep my eyes open and listen to his voice.

I knew my time was short, seconds before my eyes would shut forever. "Ridge," I managed to whisper, the effort draining what little strength remained within me. Even breathing seemed an impossible task.

"Don't talk. Save your energy," his rushed voice tried to stop me as he carried me in his arms, trying to find an escape route through the burning building. Flames engulfed it from all around. God knows how he even got in.

"Listen—to me. I'm sorry. I just wanted to keep you away from all this. But I ended up hurting you even more. You never deserved this. Please forgive me." I pleaded, the words barely escaping my lips.

"Stop talking, Marilyn. You're not dying today," he exclaimed firmly. I wanted to say more, but there was no energy left in me to keep talking, and I could only manage a final gaze at his face before surrendering to the darkness once more.

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