The Transfer ✔️

Chapter Fourteen - Acceptance

"I don't know how you eat that day after day." Ruby shudders, pushing away her bowl.

I swallow my mouthful of porridge before responding, a smile pulling at my lips. "It's fuel at the end of the day, it doesn't have to be gourmet," I laugh before adding. "Sorry, Evelyn."

"Robert was in charge of it today. I'm just surprised it's edible." Evelyn shrugs. "Ruby's in food as well, you're forgetting."

"I work out on the fields. I don't have anything to do with the cooking." Ruby smiles happily to herself, sending Evelyn a look.

"Yeah, well I don't have anything to do with Robert so here we are at an impasse yet again." Evelyn sighs dramatically.

"Guys, porridge remember? It shouldn't be this taxing." I laugh, finishing my bowl.

"Your opinion doesn't matter; you can't even cut a potato." Evelyn says, raising a playful eyebrow in my direction.

I laugh as I stand up, making my way to the trash before walking back. Evelyn and Ruby sit chatting and I wave goodbye before making my way out of the canteen. Despite the harmless breakfast with the noticeable decrease in insults being thrown at me, I keep my head down as I walk out, shielding my face from any onlookers.

My once thought invincible confidence has been rattled. With the defeat of Greg still weighing down on my shoulders, two days later, and the constant threat of my attackers which have still not been found, anything is possible. The attackers haven't made another move, leading me to believe that Greg's triumphant win over me has satisfied their cravings for Greg to reign supreme over the decaying sector of defense. Nevertheless, I'm still aware that there's fifteen people in camp who know my weaknesses and where to hit to make me crumple.

Refusing to crumple anymore has taken two days of intense re-building of my shattered mindset. Evelyn and Ruby have formed a support circle around me, despite my numerous protests. They didn't relent. Now, when they suspect something is going on, they will refuse to leave me alone. They're well liked figures in camp – nobody would cross me in their presence. Or at least, that's what they're hoping their protection techniques will ensure.

The defense sector is busier than usual, but still too quiet for my liking. With twenty people milling around on the floor, the hive of activity that I loved so much in Oakwood is not replicated in Marchwood, in fact, it's missing entirely. My heart thumps in slow disappointment because of the lack of energy. I hate it. When did I start caring so much?

Making my down the ramp, I finally spot something that makes me happy. Tucked away in the corner, Elise stands throwing knifes with relentless force into targets. The targets are finally beginning to look used and despite my disappointment about the lack of people in the base, the increased level of training within the small numbers is undeniable – taking away the sting of disappointment slightly.

"Are you angry?" I shout over to Elise.

She stops what shes doing and faces me with a smile. "No?"

I sigh and shake my head. "You should be! Get angry, prove whoever is doubting you wrong. Make them pay."

"By throwing knifes?"

"Just get enthusiastic okay? Get angry, excited, I don't really care. At the end of the day, you need some kind of strong emotion flowing through you once you get into dangerous positions, it'll make you fight harder. Have a purpose."

"Noted." She agrees tapping the side of her head in silent agreement.

I move over to the mats and stretch for ten minutes, getting my muscles warmed up for another day of training. Helping someone fix their dreadful right hook, I flutter around the room as best as I can. Wanting to impose and fix something is a difficult urge to resist and I often don't succeed. Sometimes they happily go along with my advice, others send me death glares until I leave. I do but only once my job is done.