Spoiler! :
3
As I climb into my bunk, I am cold and shaken. I am somehow scared, yet all the while curious. I feel as if I am trapped in a constant battle with myself. One side of me wants to stay away from that man, to always be as far away from him as possible, while the other side, due to intense curiosity, wants to comply with whatever he says. I guess I only have one daunting question: which side of me will win out in the end?
I am restless and cannot get to sleep. I stare attentively at the corner, as if something will appear there any second. Of course, there’s nothing, but I continue staring. I steadily change my attention to the bunk right above me. I realize how lonely Nicole must be, since within the past week, I’ve been honing all of my attention towards Brea. I feel like gently tapping on her shoulder so that I may have someone to wait out the rest of the night with me, but I then realize that she wouldn’t appreciate being woken up at this hour. Instinctively, I reach to my neck and pull out my necklace. My mother’s necklace.
I suddenly freeze up as an intense wave of anxiety washes over me. Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! I close my eyes as I attempt to conjure up an image of my mother. I bring my fists down hard onto the mattress, digging into my memories. It is hopeless; I can hardly remember her face anymore. I close my eyes again, only to experience another failed attempt. I flop onto my pillow and start sobbing. I try to stifle it, but I have not cried for so long I decide to just let it all out. I cry until my nose starts to run and my entire face is soaked with tears. I let one final tear fall down my face. It seems to hang there on my chin for an eternity, and when I finally move to wipe it off it falls onto my mother’s necklace.
“I’m sorry, mom,” I whisper into the necklace, for I feel that apologizing is the only way to make up for the fact that I have forgotten her. With my face tear-soaked hand, I tuck a wet piece of hair behind my ear. Right, time to begin another day.
+++
“Really, Jo! That’s the fifth time you’ve missed today!” Brea says as she takes in the fact that I am barely grazing the target with my arrows.
“Sorry,” I mumble, although I’m sure we both know I do not truly mean it.
“You sure you’re alright? You’ve been jumpy ever since the other night,” she whispers, clearly concerned.
I open my mouth slightly to tell her about what happened to me the other night, but I think better of it. I mean, he did appear to me, so I have a feeling that only I should know about what we had discussed. Instead, to Brea I say, “Yeah I’m fine, just a bit upset that we couldn’t find a way out.”
“Oh, Joy! Don’t worry. I have a feeling we will very soon!”
“I sure hope so,” I reply.
“Anyway, please cheer up, Jo. You are starting to depress even me,” she says with a beautiful lopsided smile.
“Sorry,” I mumble sheepishly. Even when I’m at my worst, Brea knows just how to cheer me up.
Brea playfully rolls her eyes as she brings her sword down on yet another unreal enemy. It falls and crumbles with thud as I miss the target yet again.
Well, it seems as though my day has gotten increasingly more unfortunate. Brea’s need to sneak away into the early hours of the morning has become nearly uncontrollable—reckless even. She’s cornered me in the locker room after field training to press desperately about sneaking out again. I mean, of course I say yes. I don’t want her to hate me now, do I? I desperately need a friend around here, and I do not intend to lose her due to the fact that I am frightened of something that just might be a figment of my overactive imagination.
As I walk to the mess, I constantly rewind and play over the same scene in my mind. That man who keeps appearing, it makes me feel as if I have my special little secret that belongs to me and only me. Mine. No one else’s. Only me. Mine. This is exactly why I have concluded that I shall not disclose this information to Brea. I feel bad for it, though. It feels as though I am betraying her. But then again, he never appeared to her now, did he? So, he doesn’t want her to know in the first place. Therefore, I am doing the right thing by keeping secrets from her. Right?
I feel something wrap around my arm. I try unsuccessfully to stifle a surprised yelp.
“Seriously, Jo! It’s only me,” Brea says, looking at me with a worried expression.
“Oh, I thought it was someone else,” I say quietly.
“Really, who else would intend to talk to you in the corridor?” Brea says, even though she may not realize how badly her words sting me.
I keep walking briskly, ignoring my friend.
Brea stops as she yells down the corridor, “I’ll meet you at the mess then, Jo!” Seriously this girl is completely oblivious, obtuse. Does she have even the slightest clue of how rude she just was to me? Or is she so completely blunt and narcissistic that she doesn’t even notice how she is treating the people around her? Sometimes I truly do wonder.
+++
I approach the usual table in the mess, hoping that Brea won’t sit next to me. Just so that she may spare me of the awkwardness. Then of course, there she is traipsing towards me as she smiles and waves as if nothing is wrong. Well, maybe nothing is wrong. Joy you’re just overreacting.
Oh, shut up me.
“Hello, Jo!”
“Hi,” I say to Brea extremely unenthusiastically.
Ignoring the fact that I don’t require her company whatsoever, Brea says, “I think we should go again tonight. I know exactly where to look,” she says with a bright smile that makes me wish I hadn’t been so rude.
“Really? Where do you plan on searching?”
Brea puts her index finger to her lips as she smiles and mutters, “Secret.”
“Oh come on! You have to tell me now! Or I won’t get a wink of sleep because I’ll be wondering where it is you’ll lead me tonight!” I jibe. I don’t know why, but Brea always manages to pull me back to her side. Even if I’m mad at her. Who knows what’s wrong with me. Maybe I’m bipolar.
“Sorry, Jo,” she says slyly as she picks up her uneaten food and leaves the mess.
“See you tonight then,” I mutter, even though I know she is not there to hear it.
I walk tentatively down the familiar corridor where, as usual, Brea is waiting all so impatiently. Whatever she has planned tonight must be important, she’s even more antsy than usual. As I emerge from the shadows, she jumps so high that a few of her long, blonde curls get caught in the vent that opens into the ceiling.
For once, I am the one who asks, “You okay there?”
“Yeah, sorry. I thought you weren’t going to show, so I thought…”
“That I was a guard?” I say, knowing she had good reason to be startled.
“Exactly, but you aren’t,” she says regaining her composure. “Let’s get moving shall we?”
“We shall,” I whisper dramatically as I wave for her to lead the way.
Brea quickly blindfolds me. I open my mouth as if to yell at her, or to scold her for her wickedness, but instead she answers for me.
“Sorry, Jo, but I don’t want you to see where I’m leading you. It’s a surprise,” she adds coyly as she grabs my hand to lead me to wherever it is we are headed.
Since I currently have no use of my eyes, I stumble along as clumsily as new born colt behind Brea, holding tightly to her hand. I will not be lead falsely. If Brea wants to play games, I will not stand for it. I should really just rip this stupid piece of cloth off of my eyes. But somehow, I resist tearing it off my eyes, for I do not want to lose my friend. Let her have her fun. This probably won’t be the way out. Right, Brea’s probably taking another random guess. That’s all it is. A guess. At least, I sure hope so.
“Okay, we’re here,” she mutters softly.
“It’s about time!” I say impatiently, as I lift my hands to uncover my eyes.
“Nope, not yet,” she says as she grabs my hands and holds them down. “Stand completely still and tell me what you feel.”
“This is extremely nonsensical, Brea! Let me take this off.”
“Shhh,” she hisses quietly.
I hate to do so, but I obey and devote all of my attention to what is going on around me. After about thirty seconds or so of absolutely nothing but the sounds of our shallow breaths; I feel like storming out of there to get away from this nonsense. Instead, I wait a bit longer, whether out of obedience, or could it possibly be that I, too, hope that this could be a way out?
As I wait for what surely must be nothing, I feel a sudden chill, and I start to panic. “Brea what on Earth is that?” I say urgently.
“That,” she says wonderingly, “is a gust of wind.”
“Well, that’s great,” I say as I tear off the bandana. “A gust of wind! That’s exactly what will get us out of here!” I say angrily as Brea continues to gaze at me, her bright green eyes shimmering in the darkness. It is then that I understand everything she has been trying to tell me. I gaze steadily back at her as simultaneously, mischievous smiles spread across our faces. Brea nods to me as we both turn our heads around to try and find the source of the small breeze.
It takes a while for me to notice, but we are in the middle of the massive indoor arena. Hauntingly, the clay and stone dummies surround us everywhere. No longer moving, but still, it’s creepy. My eyes devour the entirety of the arena, hungrily searching for the way out. It has to be here, it just has to be. If not, it may be an eternity of fruitless searching.
We weave our way in and out of the clay figures, looking for something, anything that could lead us to the hidden exit. “Brea,” I mutter. “What if the hidden exit is up higher? I mean, seeing as that we’re underground, it could be,” I stop to gather my thoughts. “In the ceiling,” I say as I point upward.
Brea goes slack-jawed, looking at me with surprised disbelief. “Joy,” she says as she looks me happily in the eyes, “I think you’re right. You really are a genius!” Brea happily wraps her arms around me before she looks up to inspect the ceiling.
I smile to myself as I join her in our endeavor to find the exit. It seems as though we have been searching for a few minutes when, actually, it has been nearly an hour. Then, there it is, a small ladder scaling the wall of the arena. You would probably never see it, seeing that it’s wisely hidden behind a couple of tall trees.
Brea looks at me and grins and before I know it, I catch myself grinning back like a necrophiliac in a morgue.
I continue gleefully when Brea starts laughing uncontrollably as she steadily crawls up the ladder. I stand impatiently at the bottom, waiting for her verdict on whether or not going through the ceiling could in fact, be the way out. I keep watching her climb, until my neck gets so sore I have to lower my chin so that it may rest. What on Earth is taking Brea so long?
I quickly check my digital wristwatch: 6:10. Fantastic! In less than an hour, Brea and I will surely be killed if she doesn’t get a move on. “Brea!” I call. “What are you doing? What have you found?”
“Oh, Jo—it’s wonderful!” she calls dreamily from somewhere above me.
“What do you see?” I say excitedly.
“The sun is rising, Jo, and it’s magnificent! Color is flooding all around me! I just want to swim in it! There’s grass and trees, and everything! It’s awesome! We can get out of here, Jo. We can be free!” she says ecstatically. And for once, Brea is right. We can get out of here, but not quite yet. I still have a certain someone I need to talk to.
“Not today, though, Brea. I say we wait a while. Trust me, the perfect time will come. Now that we know where the exit is, we can leave whenever we want. We just cannot leave for good yet.”
“Oh that’s just fine, Jo. I’m just so happy that we’ve found it! Life is finally worth living,” she calls happily as I hear her feet descending down the ladder.
Yes, life will definitely be worth living. We will be free.
In my happiness I twirl in a circle with a bright smile on my face. I twirl and twirl and twirl some more. I keep twirling until I am stopped dead by something about fifty yards away. I see a tall, dark, shadowy figure staring right at me.
The blue sapphire eyes are staring right into my soul. I see a flash of white and then realize that he is smiling. I continue to watch, aghast as he walks ever closer, and in his hand is a dagger. A dagger wreathed in shadowed smoke.
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