Plutonian

Chapter 22

I stare at the ceiling, trying to find Earth in the enormous constellation that makes the ceiling in Lucian's room look like we are lying under the sky. 

There are so many dots, so many systems. My eyes flit rapidly from side to side, front to back. I can't spot Earth, I can't seem to focus on anything. 

All I can see is Michael's head hanging loosely under Commander Veron's arms. See the helpless look in his eyes as he stares ahead at the person who killed him. 

My eyes land on a dark spot, larger than an entire cluster of spheres. It moves slowly, swallowing everything in its path. I remember learning what that was during our night lessons as slaves.

A black hole.

A region of space having a gravitational field so intense that it consumes every other object in its path. 

And right now my heart feels like a black hole. 

My bandaged hand clutches my chest helplessly. Does a murderer like me even have a heart?

I blink back tears as the ceiling blurs before my eyes. Why did it have to be me who fought him last week? Why didn't he try fighting back two days ago during his match against the commander? Why did he beg like that? 

I feel anger like I've never felt before. Pain so dull yet so excruciating. I must be going through some sort of punishment because every time I blink I see Michael's face. I see him just as I saw him before he took his last breath.

Desperate. Frightened. Hopeless.

That image feels like a scar on my retina and no matter how many times I blink, how many times I cry, it remains in place. 

"You're back early. Again," I catch the disappointment in Lucian's voice as the door shuts and then a shadow crosses over me. From the corner of my eye I see him stand by the bed side, looking as helpless as he did yesterday when he found me in this same position after training. 

I turn to my side and close my eyes only to see Michael again, but I don't want to talk to Lucian or anyone else. 

I hear him sigh as he walks away but then the bed dips. 

"You haven't slept or eaten properly. Haven't practiced properly. You return home early and pretend to sleep but we both know you aren't," Lucian says. "If you carry on like this, you are going to lose your next match."

I know he is facing me, know that he can see my tear stricken cheeks and swollen eyes but I seriously just don't feel like talking to anyone.

Lucian , Cassandra, or any other fighters in the training center. 

As much as I didn't want to, I had to go for training yesterday and today. I went as late as I could and left before most had, avoiding all forms of conversation even though the training center was filled with gossip about the matches two days ago. 

I knew people were talking about me by the way they looked at me as I passed them, no doubt discussing my bloody match with Christina. I had over heard them discussing most of the matches, some more gruesome than the others but above all, the topic that dominated was Michael's death.

As if his face persistently flickering before my eyes wasn't enough, I had to hear his name over and over again too. 

But the fighters were alarmed at the sudden turn of events during our last batch of fights. The Trinity have never given orders nor interfered during match day before and it has never been compulsory for the fighters to watch any death sentence match between a human and a Plutonian.