We Need More Than Miracles
Apr 10, 2011 14:53:58 GMT -5
Post by Eastern Orange on Apr 10, 2011 14:53:58 GMT -5
Alina; The Shield
Freighter; The Protector
Morrigan; The Floozy
Trigger; The Bitch
[/i]The Peacekeeper’s tight grip on my arm is the only thing that is keeping my up. My legs refuse to work properly, leaving me to stumble and stagger next to the man in the white uniform. The peacekeeper snarls and yanks me upwards. “Stand up, bitch!” He says viciously, shaking me. I whimper and turn my head away from his enraged glare. The only response I give him is a feeble attempt to straighten my legs. I’m able to stand for just a couple of seconds before my knees give out, and the Peacekeeper has to yank my up again. “Dumb bitch.” He grumbles and continues to drag me down the endless hallway.
I look up as I hear a clank of a metal door swinging open and see the dark opening of a cell. The Peacekeeper smirks as he hears my intake of breath. “That’s right sweetie.” He says, his voice harsh and mocking. “This is your new home.” He tosses me in, and I land with a thud against a cold cement ground. I hear the door slam shut behind me and I’m plunged into a murky darkness. Alone, I feel panicked sobs bubbling up in the throat, and tears sliding down my cheeks. I lay defeated on the ground, not having the energy to move. Slowly, I come to realize the dull throbbing in my shoulder and hip from being tossed. I struggle to my hands and knees and crawl over to the corner of the room, not even acknowledging the two metal shelves that the Capitol deems as beds.
I curl my body tightly, trying to become as small as possible. My heart is beating erratically and my breathing is shallow and fast. I’m getting dizzy and I fell like I’m suffocating. What are they going to do to me? The only thing they told me was that I has been arrested for brawling in public, which is a lie! I have never even gotten in a fight in privacy, let alone publicly. I comb my brain for what they could be referring to, and I let out a small gasp. That night with Denver…I don’t remember that night per se, but I can recall the flash of memory I had in the shower the next morning. Two men were attacking me and I guess I went apeshit on them. I sudden flare of anger ignites in my chest. Those assholes reported me? Well, that was attempted rape! What ever happened to self defense?
The anger promptly gets smothered by the overwhelming sense of defeat a feel. I slump against the wall heavily. It doesn’t matter now, no one would believe me. My mind goes to Denver, somewhere else in this cold intimidating place. He was arrested the same night I was.
There’s laughter all around the table, a rare sense of camaraderie is in the air. I look over a Denver comically shoving his face full of spaghetti next to me. I smile at him, my heart squeezing pleasantly. I was finding easier and easier to trust him as days went by, his charm was really hard to resist. I feel a cold stare on me, and the smile fades from my face, as I move my eyes to meet those of Mindy, frowning at me from the end of the table. I stare at her grimly, and slowly her mouth forms into a malicious grin.
I sudden banging at the front door makes me jump and I tear my eyes away from Mindy to stare at my Aunt. The table has fallen silent, everyone looking silently at my Aunt. The tension around the table is palpable. My Aunt frowns at us, and delicately whips her mouth with a napkin. “Carry on eating children.” She says, an annoyed look on her face. “I’ll get the door.” She stands up and disappears out the swinging door that leads to the front room. Before she can reach the door, the people at the door knock again, loud forceful knocks.
I don’t know why, but I know something is wrong. I look around at everyone’s serious faces and I can tell they feel it too. No one comes to this house. No one. So who would come all the way out here at this time? Why were they banging on the door so loudly, so forcefully? Something had happened, or at least about to happen.
We sit in complete silence, most of us not even breathing, trying to hear who was at the door. We hear my Aunt open the door and gasp. I tense and clench my fists, my stomach knotting from anxiety. I can her hear strained voice and the low tones of a male through the door but I can’t make them out. I’m so focused on trying to hear human voices that I’m not immediately aware of the thudding footsteps coming up the hallway toward us. They were much too heavy to be from my Aunt. My chest seizes in fear and I blindly cast my hand about for Denver’s. I find it and clutch it to my chest seeking comfort, but it offers little.
The door is pushed open, revealing a Peacekeeper with another one looming behind him. I can hear various reactions around the table: screams, gasps, snarls of anger, but no one says anything. The Peacekeeper’s cold eyes look around the table, sneering. “I am looking for a Trogon Lane.” He hisses. There is utter silence and whether voluntary or by accident, all the kids turn their eyes to me. The Peacekeeper’s smile widens. “My, what loyal friends you have.” He was looking directly at me. I flinch, and my cheeks redden in shame.
The Peacekeeper walks toward me and puts a hand on my shoulder, gripping it tightly. I shudder at his touch, and murky images of me being assaulted by men arise in my mind’s eye. “Come quietly, Honey.” His voice is mocking. “And don’t worry about your boyfriend, he is coming too.” My eyes widen and I turn my head to meet Denver’s eyes. I don’t understand what is happening, my sluggish brain trying – and failing – to connect the dots. Peacekeepers here for me and him? Why? What did we do?
I’m yanked away from him, his hand tearing away from my grasp. The severed contact between me and Denver is like a bucket of ice water over my head, and suddenly the meaning of the situation really sinks in. I’m being arrested. Arrested. Maybe to never return. Suddenly a scream rips through my throat and I’m trying to push my way back to Denver, my eyes blurry with tears so that he is just a featureless smudge. I feel the Peacekeeper’s hand wrap around my hair, and sharp pain in my scalp as he wrenches me back. “Denver!” I yell desperately as I’m pulled through the swinging door, and lose site of him. As I’m dragged through the living room I can hear the sobs of my Aunt, huddled in the corner.
I shudder against the cold stone pressing into my back that was sucking all warmth from my body. The memory had brought more tears to my eyes, and I look down at my hands and imagine them holding Denver’s for support. I can’t believe he was here because of me. Those men were attacking me, they wanted me. Denver shouldn’t be here at all. I drop my hand to my hands and shake my head. If we ever get out of here, how will I face him? How can he ever forgive me?
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