Gears (NaNoWriMo 2017) (#1 Below the Machines)

Chapter 18

I didn't know what to do after that. I couldn't help but stare, my emotions, starting to spill out. No, my lips mouthed, as my eyes began to tear up. No matter what the Lieutenant - General said, no matter that I had failed them even though they had thought I had succeeded.

A hand clasped onto my arm, someone finally courageous enough to touch me, to approach me. I flipped my head around, the shock and unbelief still on my face as I saw the person, who had a strong glare on her face as her mouth moved in words that I could no longer comprehend. She seemed annoyed at my reaction, beginning to pull me back, away from the painting and away from the room, until she spared a second glance at me. Then the recognition shook her, smacking her in the face. Her eyes darted back and fourth from my face to the painting behind me, and she dropped my hand as if it had shocked her. "Oh," escaped her lips, apparently loosing the ability to talk.

But that was too much for me. I squeezed my eyes shut and shoved her away, not caring whether I hurt her or not. I sprinted out of the door, pushing at the slow moving crowds around me. The loss shook me, finally letting everything fall into me, crushing me under its weight. Sadness and fury raced through me, biting at my eyes, torn between letting the tears fall and holding them back. I wanted nothing more than to just give up, let myself collapse in that moment.

I ignored all the protests shouted at me, as I shoved through people — servants, maids and officers of all kind. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally made it back to my side of the barracks, which I realised were located on practically opposite sides of the military base.

By now, I feel like as if I've mapped out the whole area remembering the routes of this place by heart, knowing it like it has been my home for years. I think it had something to do with my mechanics, and how they may have been engineered to remember and record information easily.

I entered my room with ease, resisting the urge to slam the door behind me. Instead, I decided to stand with my back against the door, in case anyone decided that they needed me. This way I would know if they entered or wanted to enter immediately. After holding it all in for a second more, I let it out.

I didn't know how long I spent there, letting the tears fall to the ground, into the ocean that would drown me eventually. I let the ache in my heart let out, crying for the person that I had doomed. The girl who should've lived, but died because of me, even though I wasn't the one to kill her. The droplets of water fell down my cheeks, traced all the features on my face, silent, as I stared into everything and nothing, letting myself give in to the weakness that they would disapprove.

And so I cried.

⚙ ⚙ ⚙

I knew that at least four hours had passed, time slipping through my fingers until the first knocks rapped on the door, then pushed against my back. My tears had dried, and all that was left was the sobs that were choked out of me, my throat giving feeble attempts to continue my snivelling, only to be cut short when the person gave a second, stronger push at the door.

"Hello? Is anyone in there? Maid 27, Pro 1?" The deep and familiar voice asked from behind the door, laced with concern.

I let myself take a final, shuddery breath before gulping and moving out of the doorway. Slowly, I stood, one hand braced on the wall to help myself up. My legs felt wobbly, and my hands shook with shivers. My throat was dried, and the tracks of tears still streaked over my face. I sighed, knowing that I couldn't be seen like this, turning around and about to enter the washroom just as the door was slammed open, revealing a confused Major Hart as he stared at my retreating back. Turning a blind eye to his presence, I stalked out of the main room, walking myself over to the taps located in the bathroom.