FicWad

Frank and I had to be cold around the others. But, like many of the others, we shared a room. I didn't mind; he was bi for the love of god, and I saw him as more of a brother.

After a while of being cold, I wouldn't even notice it. Frank would shut the door and smile at me, then give me an odd look. One time he even had to poke me to snap me out of it. It felt natural to me now.

With in a week, I was walking, talking, and feeling exactly like a caged animal. Like a big cat that had been captured and forced to perform. Even the man Frank referred to as Father was impressed by me.

Every few hours, Frank would take me into a room and teach me new things; new ways of fighting. And, every other week, I was to fight somebody who'd been there as long as me. They were always fights to the death.

I asked Frank why we fought like that on the night of my first death match. His words had been etched into my very being – there was no forgetting it. “Because Father doesn't want weak soldiers. He wants us to be the strongest, fastest, and coldest we can be. And if you can cut down your own without hesitation, it's your proof that you can be all those things.” he shook his head in disgust.

Of course, I won. With all the help Frank had been giving me, the other girl looked so unskilled as I fought her. She made the dumbest mistakes; going for the obvious weak points on my body – throat, ribs, legs – and she wasn't expecting me to leave any gaps on purpose.

So, when she went for a kick to my legs, I snapped one up and brought my foot down on her hard. It caught her outstretched leg and I heard a low crack. Then her screams filled the room and, keeping my face blank even though I was horrified at what I was doing, I picked her up by her throat.

She dangled in the air as I held her high. Her hands clutched at mine and her eyes bugged. I heard the cheers around us – everyone seemed to come back to a crude form of their old selfs at these fights, watching people getting killed – and I felt a grim smile touch my lips.

Her eyes were bloodshot and she was still trying to get out of my grip. I tightened my hands and she thrashed in the air. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard a little, cold voice. Yes. Fight. Make it last.

I let the little voice take over my head and I let my grip loosen a bit on her neck. She took a gasping breath and started screaming and crying. One of her tears hit my cheek and rolled down my face.

This is fun. She took another breath and I squeezed again, cutting her breath short. I sat her back on the ground and pushed her to her knees.

I stood in front of her, hands still wrapped around her neck and keeping a steady pressure. She looked at me, her eyes wide and still dripping tears. I smiled at her, tightening my hands one more time.

As I watched, her eyes went glassy and the veins in them burst. They filled with blood and the blue turned purple.

I dropped her dead body and I stepped to the edge. My face was still wet from her tear and I left it there. I looked at Father and he smiled at me.

Frank came into the circle and lifted my arm. The room erupted with cheers louder than before. A smile broke on my face and my eyes gleamed with joy.

I was led off by him and we went to our room. Frank shut the door and looked at me, his face shocked and worried. He sat me on my bed and knelt in front of me.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, meeting my eyes. I looked back and felt my fear and horror come through the mask I was wearing slowly. A tear escaped my eye and met the trail the girl's had left on my cheek.

I started to sob silently. Frank got on the bed and held me, letting me soak his shirt with my tears. He kept murmuring nonsense to me, and eventually, something he'd said caught my attention and got me to stop crying.

But I felt that I was disappearing in myself. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that I liked killing that girl. And as I admitted to myself, that little dark spot in me grew. I could feel it getting bigger.

I let go of Frank and rolled onto my side. Curling my legs into my chest, I put my head on my pillow and looked at the wall. Frank stroked my hair for a moment and then moved to his bed.

Closing my eyes, I saw the girl's shocked and scared face in my mind. But there was no getting past it. I'd killed her. And now I had to live with that.

Maybe I didn't want to live. I thought to myself. I argued with myself, the still bright part of my mind screaming at the dark one. What are you talking about? Frankie has a plan to get you out.

The dark part answered bleakly. And if it doesn't work? What then? Huh? I tried to ignore it but I just couldn't.

You are so negative about it. Do you even want to get home? The bright side kept shouting.

What home? You act like there was anything there for me anyway. Well, at least the dark side had a point. That side got bigger.

What about my siblings? And mom. Oh god she has to be scared out of her mind. The bright one was strangely irritating.

Ha! if she cared about me, she'd have driven me to classes. And the others don't need me. More than anything, I just got in the way. The dark side was making excellent points. Mom never really cared about what happened to me. If she did, she wouldn't have let me walk around New York alone and at my age.

I felt the dark part getting bigger and bigger. The bright side pushed against it. All that was left of her was just a little circle the size of a penny.

Something started shaking me and I opened my eyes. I was still curled in on myself and facing the wall. There was pressure on my shoulder and I shook it off.

It came back, rolling me over. I let it and found myself looking up at Frank, my legs unwinding. He was staring at me, eyes wide.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice strained. I nodded, my face blank. “Ems.” he said, his voice growing even more strained.

I sighed and pulled him down next to me. He lay on his side, facing me. I folded my arms at my side and he ran his finger down the length of my nose.

It was a calming gesture. I closed my eyes again and fell back asleep, with him next to me. My brother.
















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