Citizen

Chapter five

Kyra shook her head back and forth mechanically to try and rouse it; her brain was empty, numb. Now is not the time to stop, she thought, now is the time to act.

The whole situation was crazy; thinking about it made her need to sit down. She tried to breathe normally, in through the nose and out through the mouth. That was how she'd been taught to concentrate when she was in a test, though it worked better when there was Mathematics or English involved - murder wasn't exactly her strong point.

Once her head stopped spinning and allowed her to move, she got to her feet, gingerly testing her knees. She didn't remember falling, but guessed it happened sometime between being told her task, and realising what it meant. Kyra wiped her hands on her pants, but they came up bloodier than ever. She wanted to cry, scream and vomit all at once, but all she could do was gulp.

When she was a child, Kyra had written herself a list of rules: she would never steal, she would never harm a living thing, and she would always be kind, sympathetic and brave. It seemed as though the test was designed to break almost all of her rules. Were they trying to drive her insane? Did they want her to be a murderer?

Of course not. The whole point of wearing their bracelets was to avoid conflict and violence, to create perfect human beings. Why would a society that worked so hard for balance throw it all away for a test? That's when it hit her.

"I'm not killing anyone," she whispered. A key. A book. A first aid kit. A gun. Two bullets. Two escapees. But the task didn't specify two dead bodies. Whether people lived or died was up to her.

Kyra's eyes met her father's. Even in death, or whatever form he was stuck in, his hazel eyes were wide and bright, a flicker of life still concealed in the irises. She crawled towards him and pressed her hands against the glass, wishing that she could really touch him, feel the warmth he gave off, but she knew he was nothing but a corpse - or a memory. Either way he wasn't the person Kyra loved and needed.

Taking a deep rattling breath in, Kyra rocked back on her heels, hands gripping her thighs for dear life. Though she knew the man wasn't really her father, the thought of killing him just didn't sit right, especially since he didn't even know she was there. Would it be easier that way, or ten times harder? Would she even be able to pull the trigger, or would she have to wait for hours, until an Enforcer eventually came in and said she'd failed her test? Maybe she'd even end up in one of the cells before her. If she didn't get a job, she'd have nowhere else to go. Except the outside.

The button next to the cell flashed with an ear-splitting screech, bringing Kyra back to Earth. She slammed her fist against it in an attempt to silence it. The glass disappeared with a small pop, and behind it her father began to stir, his eyelids fluttering as he adjusted to the sudden light.

Without thinking, Kyra lunged for him, wrapping her thin arms around his waist like she had when she was younger. Though he couldn't wrap his chained arms around her, he was just as warm as he'd always been, and he still smelled like pine - he always did when he came home from missions to the outside. Suddenly she felt like she was ten years old again, young and innocent and oh so small.

"Kyra!" He was huffing, struggling against the chains around his wrists. It was only using all of her strength that she willed herself to let go.

"Is there anyway to get these off other than using the key?" she asked, reaching for the chains. She looked around for a rock, or something she could use to break the metal, but there was nothing in sight.

"I, I don't think so. The only way I can get out of here is if you choose to set me free." His gaze flickered between her eyes sparkling with tears. "Oh honey, don't get upset. It's alright; you won't have to kill me. I'm innocent." He smiled sadly. There was a note of truth in his voice that she couldn't ignore. But there was also a glint in his eye she didn't trust. It was the same one she'd seen on the hologram; the same one that had accompanied his mad eyes and sadistic smile; the same one that had pressed the button.