Royal Imitation | Kylo Ren

Golden Gates

The hot wind pushes against the vehicle as if to force us back to where we belong, but there is no avail, no matter how mighty in its howl. 

We are going forwards and nothing but a blessed tragedy could change that – I want the subtle wind to pick up its pace and shove these First Order prisons over, leaving the seven girls and I, who are all cowering together in the back of one vehicle out of the three, to flee and run back to the place that we once thought was our farmer's cage.

The tires make their monotonous hiss over the stone roads, jittering and swaying us side to side as it rolls over thrown rocks and twigs that had fallen from the trees above. 

The air that makes its way though the filters in the sides of the van is meadow-sweet, proving to me that we are still in the country-side where the birds outside are even calling for us to return back to the orchards. 

All around, through these tinted windows are fields. This tin box is destined for the horizon, heading to a destination that is unknown and I am a nervous mess that clings onto the thick window with bruises scattered all over my skin like watercolour to a pastel page. I had been spending the last ten minutes, smashing at the pane with my fists and elbows, but never did the glass dint or shatter as the girls behind me huddled into the corners of the vehicle and cried.

I began to do the same.

There were no seats in the tin box, leaving us to slide and trip with every turn and bump. I run a shaking hand through my hair and focus on my breathing, but it only quickens with the thudding of my terrified heart and even the air in here is starting to become too hot to inhale. 

I know I'm scared when in the midst of a wild panic, old fears run through my head and try to trigger a survival-mode within, but when I hear the taunting laughter of years past, sneering at my pathetic excuse for a life, I only give into the fear that builds and let out a yelp of sobs, mimicking the girls around me. I know I'm truly doomed and scared, when those bad memories cut loose their chains and invade my confidence, eroding the person I have built since those dark days and turning me into the frightened child that I once was in the orphanage. 

I sink to my knees and claw my fingernails against the metal walls around me. 

Where were The First Order taking us?

Why were they taking us? 

If I close my eyes, I can feel the gentle rise and fall of the road beneath us. I cannot imagine what is in store, for anything that The First Order do, are never laced with good intentions. All they do, is cause chaos and war... And something in the faces around, told me they knew something bad was bound to happen to us all.

But why us? I recall the way when Anwar was thrown so harshly to the ground, the StormTrooper had said something about it being upon the King's order, but what could he ever want from the dirt beneath his leather boot?

Amid the infinitely greened hills, the rolling verdant hues that flow into charcoal, is the road that meets the stone path that we drive upon, signifying that we were about to go through the south-east corner of the city, where the poorest live and gather in the grimy streets that twine before the golden, gated community of the rich. 

The south-east corner of Jorkhan's capital city, is a dark spot of tarnish in a shining sea of treasure. Somehow, when the path and country-sides began to thin, the road only became less soft, more rickety as it shakes us around and vibrates my own horrified, heartbeat into my ears.

I inhale a sharp breath inwards and wrap my sore arms around my legs, cradling myself as if I was not the fearful child myself, but the one soothing promises into my ear.