Defying Terror

Chapter XLVIII

  Slater J. Tross, O.L.C

August 28th, 2030, 10:32 am  

"Slater, wait!" CJ calls. "Come back!"

My dress shoes hurtle against the lustrous, sleek floors of the Castle halls. The click of every touch resonates off the walls, but it is only my footsteps that I hear. No lights are on to brighten the room, but the drain of the sun from the large windows on my right illuminates my pathway. I pay no mind to the immense ocean that sits just below the bluffs that hold this mansion as I sprint away from everything.

A twist into a single doorway, revealing a row of stalls on one side and urinals on the one adjacent. Artificial light bulbs line the mirrors over the sinks to my right. The cold air swims to me as I duck into a stall and slam the door behind me. The confinement is somewhat comforting.

It's all withering away. The altercation between Hal, Craig, and Sergeant Lee last night was a total blur, and I can recollect none of it. I only remember that it happened and I'm ashamed. I always involve myself in everything even if I don't have to. Why do I do it? What has made me become so selfless? It's getting me into trouble but I can't control it. There is something refreshing about my actions at the moment, but after it happens, it fucks me up like this.

Thankfully, my one relief came after that incident. Roarke didn't haunt my dreams and I had a pleasant sleep. I awoke comfortably at eight a.m, the same time as everyone else. My new colleagues, however, told me that I was still talking to myself, but my volume didn't exceed a calm whisper.

Craig and Hal are never going to learn to cooperate for as long as they're in the Imperial Guard. It makes me ill thinking about how much they hate each other. How can we, the rest of the class, sit back and watch them tear each other apart? It's only going to divide us further until there is no more Class 30. And once they lack the constraints to get to each other, who knows what they will do. How can I not get involved? It's not my fight but something inside me is giving me the obligation. I have to do something.

And that is the responsibility that is killing me. I have a compulsion to make everyone happy and make sure no one is fighting on my watch. I have lived a crazier life in the past five months than most kids my age and I have the experience to change what I see. But I can't; I don't know how to. Not to mention that I have this stupid mark on my arm that links me to everything wrong with this Empire, so everyone is asking me for an explanation when I don't have one. Or maybe I'm too busy asking myself.

I have to be better at everything. I need to connect with my new peers more. I am going to be spending the rest of my life with them, and they are even known as my brothers and sisters. If we're going to be yelling and struggling to unite forever, then we will be wasting our time with each other. I'm having a battle with myself as to whether or not I am responsible for initiating that change in the end. What do I need to do?

I collapse against the porcelain toilet behind me. My elbow rests on the seat, and I suddenly feel the internal urge to vomit. The cotton, button up shirt clinging to my chest rejects that idea. I am overwhelmed by my ever-changing world. I'm just a lost teenager in a dynamic realm that I don't belong in.

In my junior year, I never considered my future past high school or what the rest of my life would consist of. At that moment, I didn't care what I did, but I wanted to do something. The Imperial Guard was the one exception to that. This is nothing that I ever wanted. If I would have known what I would have to withstand being a recruit in the Imperial Guard, I definitely would have stopped running and turned myself in. No more needless crime and murdering.