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May the World Burn, Chapter Six



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Thu Jan 12, 2012 1:49 am
Misfit says...



6


A t first, I had no idea what to think. He wanted me to kill someone and obviously I would never do such a thing. Then again, I may. Ever since this man showed up every single one of my thoughts has been more mixed up. Honestly, I haven’t felt like myself in weeks. And as I hear him ask that question I feel whatever is left of my sense of normality drift away. Surely, it will be missed. “You want me to…kill somebody? We’re talking an actual person here right?” I ask.
“Of course. Although before you do that there are a few things that need to be done around here,” he says, smiling.
“Care to enlighten me?”
“Of course, pet. Of course,” he says, “I want you to tell a few of the other children about the exit you’ve discovered. Spread the word around, and eventually the information will reach the guards. Naturally, they’ll try to keep anyone from leaving, which is where you’ll come in, pet. Ultimately, you’ll need to start a rebellion of the inmates. Kill off the guards and anyone who opposes going above ground. By that point you’ll be able to escape,” he pauses as he chuckles quietly to himself, “and you’ll be able to see what has become of your precious world.”
He has to be kidding. He’s talking cold-blooded murder here, and somehow I know that he knows I’ll go through with it. He knows I would be willing to do anything to get out of here, he’s using it against me, and I hate him all the more for it.
“What about the children who’ll surely be killed off?” I ask nervously.
“If they’re dumb enough to get themselves killed, let them all die. Only the strongest will remain. And that’s all I want, all I need; the strongest.
“Alright, fine,” I say. “You have my word…I’ll do it.”
His cold, sapphire eyes gleam as he strokes my cheek and I cringe away. “Then I have nothing more to say than that I wish you only the best of luck, pet.”


+++


Ever since I’ve told a few people about the exit, the news has been spreading like wildfire. I can see already that once they turn on the guards, it’ll be a madhouse. Total chaos. Which is exactly what he wants. I have repeatedly tried to talk to Brea about what’s in store for the next week, but every time she sees me walking towards her, she’ll turn the opposite direction and snub me. I swear, she’s the most immature person I have ever come across. Fine, if Brea wants to act like this I’ll let her. I know a lost cause when I see one. Let her come to me for help because I don’t need her.

Later that day in the mess Brea actually decides to speak to me.
“What is wrong with you, Jo?” She asks angrily.
“I don’t know, Brea. I just don’t know.”
“Why have you been telling everyone about the exit we found?” She pouts, “It’s our secret, Jo! Ours, not theirs!”
“You don’t think I know that Brea? You don’t think I know what will happen now that everyone knows? Well, I’m sorry but you’re wrong. I do know, I know all too well.”
Puzzled, she asks, “Wait…what are you getting at?”
“What I’m getting at is that I’m starting a rebellion against the guards,” even saying the words make me feel awful.
“You’re starting a rebellion? Why didn’t you tell me this, Jo? Do you know how completely stupid it is to start something like this? Everyone I know can’t wait to get out of here, and there’s even been talk about killing people, Jo. It’s scaring me. How could you do this?”
“Really? They’re talking about killing off the guards already? This is moving a lot faster than I thought,” I reply nonchalantly.
“You mean you knew this would happen? What on Earth has come over you?” She says, clearly worried.
“Nothing,” I say in between mouthfuls of food, “He wants me to start a rebellion and kill off the guards. It’s essential that we do it or we won’t be able to leave I guess.”
“Jo,” she pouts, reaching out and taking hold of my hand, “It doesn’t have to be this way. It could just be us two. Nobody would have to know.”
I get up and comfort her, “But don’t you see Brea? Now that everyone knows we won’t even have to worry about getting caught. Nobody will be able to stop us. We’ll be completely free,” I motion to everyone in the whole room, “all of us.”
“Really?” She sniffs.
“Really,” I say giving her the smile with the warmth and comfort she had been seeking, which seems to satisfy her.
“Alright then,” she says, “let’s start this rebellion, shall we?”

Within less than a day Brea and I had spread the word that a rebellion against the guards would take place in no less than three days’ time. Until then, there’s nothing for us to do then to wait and to make sure that everything goes according to plan. The plan is pretty much that we kill the guards, grab whatever we need to take above ground, and get out. It’s probably the simplest plan ever, seeing that we greatly outnumber the guards. What I’m wondering is, why hasn’t anyone thought of doing this before? If they did, how awful was their fate?
Truly, I don’t see why we even have to kill the guards. Everyone else seems to know why we have to get rid of them, but I just don’t. Maybe it’s because I’m weak. Maybe it’s because I just can’t do that to another human being. I know that even if I don’t personally bloody my hands by killing someone, I’ll still be responsible. I’ll be responsible because if I hadn’t started executing this whole plan then no one would have to die, but I had to. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to get out, and I have to know the truth about what happened to the world above. No matter how terrible, I just have to.
This means that in no less than three days, I’ll be responsible for the deaths of about a two-hundred people. Who knows, maybe even more; it’s not like every single rebel will survive this either. The guards aren’t completely defenseless; they still have their guns to hide behind. Those guns will mean even more innocent lives lost because of me.
I swear I’m going mad, because no sane person would ever lay this many lives on the line. A sane person would never even think of killing anybody. Most of all, a sane person would never carry out the plan of some maniac who has probably killed many upon many people. The world I knew has ended, and this man is controlling the new one that soon, I will blindly walk right into. Him: the deranged puppeteer, and me: his stupid puppet that’s in way too deep to stop.


+++


“Jo, wake up! We have to go to the arena and train some of these amateurs how to be lethal weapons of rebellion!”
The fact that Brea is way too enthusiastic about murdering the guards worries me. She has a hunger that honestly, I just don’t have. So instead of doing the polite thing by responding, I turn over, away from her.
“You seriously have to wake up,” she says as she hits me lightly on the shoulder, “I can’t train all of them. They need your killer’s instinct, Joy.”
“Fine, fine. Alright then,” I say as I get up, “don’t be impatient or I’ll have to take even longer to get dressed.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in the arena.” She adds, before leaving out the door quietly.
As I get dressed I feel the magnitude of what I’m about to do hit me full force. Here I am, about to teach children, children, how to kill. Three or four weeks ago when I pictured getting out of here, it was nothing like this. Really, it’s quite funny how things tend to play themselves out a completely different way than what you expect.

As I walk down the corridor towards the arena, I picture the halls full of prisoners brutally fighting against guards. Their eyes filled with the madness of longing for wanting to be free, and the hopeless, frightened expressions on the guards’ faces. Knowing that they won’t leave this place alive. One side fighting for their precious lives, the other for their freedom, creating total chaos.
Then, as I step through the door and look upon the hundreds of young faces that will soon be filled with anger, everything becomes all too real. I almost feel like crumbling to the floor right here and now, but I know I can’t. Instead, I yell out strong, “Who’s ready to change the world?”
Everyone responds, “We are!”
“Alright then,” I say loud with authority. “Anyone younger than fourteen goes to my left. Anyone older, to my right.”
Right away, they do what they’re told. Good, at least I don’t have a bunch of simpletons to work with. “Now,” I say, “the group younger than fourteen follow me. All of those who are older go with Brea.”
I lead all of the younger kids, of whom there are slightly more than fifty towards the shooting range. Here, I will show them how to basically use a weapon. Meanwhile, Brea will be teaching survival techniques to the older ones. So that this way, once we are up above we’ll have somewhat of an idea on how to thrive.
“Why do I have to learn how to shoot a gun?” A young boy asks.
“Try something else then, like a sword or daggers for instance. They may prove much more effective in close range combat,” I say simply. I hate what I’m training these kids for, but there is a sense of fulfillment as I look at everyone hitting the targets knowing that I’m leading this. I’m in charge, and everyone here looks up to me. It’s actually a very good feeling.
I look over in Brea’s direction and I can tell there are some problems. I tell the kids to keep it up as I go see what the matter is.

“You seriously don’t know how to make a fire?” An older boy taunts, “I for one don’t want to learn anything from anyone who is too scared to do the simplest tasks.”
“I-I-I’m sorry. I just d-don’t know how.” Brea says, about to break down in tears. She may be quite beautiful most of the time, but when she cries it’s just embarrassing. I quickly rush over and comfort her.
“If you’re so great then build a fire right now,” I say to the boy “Come on. Do it. Impress the hell out of me.” I give him an ice cold stare.
“Well, you see I would,” he says, “but I’m afraid this idiot,” he gestures to Brea, “isn’t able to teach us a thing.”
“So you can’t build a fire? And what’s your name?” I ask.
“No,” he struggles, “I can’t. My name’s Ian, yours is Joy and her name is Brea. Are we done here?”
“No, no we’re not.” I say as I address the whole crowd. “Ian here is going to teach everyone how to make a fire. Please, pay close attention this should pay to be very…informative.” With a bright smile I leave as soon as everyone waits impatiently for Ian to begin. I watch coolly as he attempts fire, only to cut his thumb open, muttering vile obscenities under his breath.
I can’t believe an idiot like that would dare challenge Brea and I’s authority. Who does he think he is? I really hope he shapes up because I’ll never have a peaceful night above ground knowing that people like this are still around to endanger everything we’ve fought for. I know it seems a bit over dramatic, but ignorant people really get on my nerves.


+++


That evening in the mess hall the air was filled with anticipation as to what was to come. It took up everyone’s strength to not talk about the rebellion even though they wanted to. Secrecy was a must, we had to catch the guards by surprise or else we wouldn’t stand a chance against their superior weapons.
“So what do you think of the troops?” Brea asks, excitedly.
“Brea keep it down! The kids are all promising, yes. I don’t think we’ll have too much trouble breaking out. Okay, are you satisfied? No more battle tactics talk at the table okay? Too much of the plan depends on secrecy and I will not let everything get thrown under the bus just two days before we get out of here.”
“Okay fine, you have my word,” she says rolling her eyes, “it’s just that I’m so excited I can hardly wait. What are we going to do as soon as we get out?”
“We’re going to stick together until we reach a city, and from what I’m guessing we’re many miles from New York, which is our best bet as a place to live in.”
“New York? Isn’t that where you’re from, Jo?”
“Yeah, why?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that I have a feeling that you don’t have the best interests of everyone else in mind. What if we wanted to live somewhere else?”
“Then you can go ahead and do that, Brea I’m not stopping you. New York is clearly the best choice. It shouldn’t be more than about fifty miles away, and once we get there there’ll be more than enough places for people to live. We can form a whole new world, Brea. We should all stick together.”
“Okay I see your point,” she says, “but I still think that you just want to see what’s happened to your family.”
“You’re right Brea I do. What if their still alive? I’ll be able to be with my family again and that means the world to me.” I say. I already know what she’s going to say, and I know that it will hurt me. I can’t get mad at her though, she really is a dear friend and I won’t lose her again. I can’t.
“Joy, your family is dead! Why can’t you accept it? They’re gone and so is everyone else! All of these kids, we’re all you have. For your sake, I hope you come to terms with it. Your family is gone, dead. If you are even able to see them they will not be alive.”
I sit there, silent.
“Oh, Jo. I’m sorry; I’ve made a mess of everything haven’t I? Please don’t get mad. I hate having to shove the truth down your throat but you need to realize what’s really going on here. We’re the last people alive on this planet. Right now nothing else matters other than our own survival. Please stay with me, Jo. I can’t take on the world alone,” she says as she hugs me gently.
I don’t say anything. Her words deeply hurt me, and no matter how much I don’t want to admit it, they hold a lot of truth to them as well. Limply, I return her embrace. Hoping, praying that somehow I’ll prove her wrong and my family is still alive.

That night I couldn’t sleep, not one bit. I couldn’t stop thinking about what will become of everyone once we get out of here. Unfortunately, it’s one of those things where you just won’t know until it actually happens. This waiting around is just way too frustrating.
Unable to be alone any longer, I quietly get out of bed and head towards Brea and her roommate Camille’s cell. I don’t care too much for Camille, really. Sure, she’s nice but honestly, she isn’t the brightest. As I walk down the corridor the shadows start taking shape into awful things. I creep away from them, but they keep coming after me. Chasing me down the corridor. Before I know it, I’m full-out sprinting towards Brea’s cell. By the time I had picked the lock and slipped inside I was totally out of breath.
“Brea, I think we have a mouse again,” Camille says in the dark.
“You should really start killing them yourself sometime,” Brea says as she gets up and turns on the light.
“Joy?” Camille says, “How did you get in?”
“There’s a gaping hole in your wall, you should really get that fixed,” I say sarcastically as I lie down on Brea’s bed.
“Really? I don’t see it…”
“What are you doing here anyway, Jo?” Brea asks, dismissing Camille as she sits down next to me.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I state.
“Why?” Brea says, “Were you shivering with anticipation?” She continues with a wink. “If so I totally understand. I haven’t been able to sleep much either lately. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. What I’m going to do once we arrive in New York.”
“Oh really? Rocky Horror references?” I say, “Care to enlighten me on your plans of grandeur?”
“Well, I was hoping that maybe Camille and I could live with you. We would never have to split up, we could survive together. It may actually be quite fun,” she says happily.
“I agree with Brea!” Camille pipes in, “and Jo, I don’t see a hole anywhere. Are you sure you didn’t just pick the lock?”
“Yes, Camille I picked the lock. Thanks for reminding me, I forget things like that all the time,” I say rolling my eyes and Brea as she holds back a mean-spirited giggle.
“No problem chicka, that’s what I’m here for!” Camille says before I hear her start to doze off.
“Brea, I actually agree with you,” I say giddily, “I think it would be great if you, Camille, and I can live together. Since we’ll all be together it’ll be easier for us to survive.” I say, glad to avert my attention towards something a tad more lighthearted than a full out rebellion.
“So I’m guessing you’re going to bunk here with us ruffians tonight, right?” Brea asks.
“I guess I am,” I say, “I can’t stand being alone in my room. My thoughts about this stupid rebellion are preventing me from sleep. Would you mind if I just stay here tonight?”
“No, not at all,” she said, laying herself down beside me.
“Goodnight,” I yawn before I close my eyes and eventually, succumb to sleep.


+++


Tomorrow morning at precisely three, we will all gather in the arena, get all of the weapons, and set out to murder every single guard and government official in the establishment. That gives me about five more hours of sleep, and I’m not even tired. I don’t want to bother Brea and Camille again, they need their sleep. Instead I pace, finalizing my plans on how I’ll avoid killing anybody.
I just can’t stab of shoot somebody and watch the life leave their eyes, knowing that it was I who had caused their death.


+++


Today was just a normal day, we trained all throughout the morning and went through the rest of the day going to our normal classes, passing by and greeting the usual guards outside the mess of whom we would have to kill. It made me sick, I almost skipped the whole day so that I could lie in bed and avoid seeing any of the guards who would be living their last day on this Earth. Even now it makes me feel like throwing up, but I have to stay strong. Over three-hundred people look up to me as their leader and if they see how sick I get by just the idea of taking a life, then I may be in danger of getting killed. I have to remain strong, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up.


+++


Its two-forty eight now, I’m fully dressed, daggers in hand, and ready to go. The only problem is I’ve been unable to stop shaking violently. Any minute now I’ll head to the arena, and give the order that sets everyone loose upon the unsuspecting guards. Within minutes they’ll all be dead. Minutes. It’s weird how it takes years and years to live a life, but only seconds to end it. Life takes so much time and energy out of you, and really all it builds up to is the end. No significant “ta-da!” No dramatic final acts of grandeur. Just another ending. Period.
Slowly, I get up and walk towards my door. My legs feel like two cement blocks, each step is heavier, and I feel at any moment I just won’t be able to go any further. I’ll be stuck in my room, a coward. I continue forward, through the corridors towards the arena. I push open the metal doors and inside waiting for me, are three hundred prisoners. Fully dressed, weapons in hand, and freedom frozen into their expressions. I look to Brea; she has painted her cheeks with red paint. As I walk in she solutes me solemnly, I return the respect by nodding in her direction.
Since everyone is all set, I say one last thing as I quickly pause and look as my wristwatch alarm goes off at three o’clock. “What they’ve been doing here, that’s wrong. Fighting for our liberation from their sick idea of society is what’s right! Now what do you say? Let’s get the hell out of this Godforsaken hole in the ground!”
I hear their fearsome battle cries all around me and then, I lift up my daggers. I keep them raised until the room quiets. Then, as quick as possible I lower them, giving the signal that we may leave the arena. Finally, the rebellion had begun.

As we surged through the corridors only two thoughts filled my head. One: I didn’t want to kill anyone and I would do anything to prevent myself from doing so. Two: I had to keep Brea safe, my family may already be dead and without her I wouldn’t have anybody. As long as I stayed true to those two things, in my eyes the rebellion would be viewed as a complete success.
“Joy, the guards’ section of the base is right up ahead. That’s where we’ll attack. I’m sending a group of young ones to take care of whatever guards are in the cell areas. Ready to attack on your order,” Ian says. Within a minute I nod my head to him as we continue ahead where the guards are.
As we round the corner I hear two gun shots and watch as two of my comrades’ fall to the white tile ten feet in front of me, their mouths open in a silent cry that will never escape. I motion for everyone to stop. I know that soon, I’ll have to give the signal to continue and after I do that, the fight is really going to happen.
The silence is filled with anticipation, and eventually I give the signal to fight. As they rush past me and start beating the guards. I just stand there; my blood turns cold as I watch a guard yell, “Shoot! Shoot, you idiots!” he gasps though the blood trickling from his mouth which gurgles the message so much no one could possibly interpret it.
I hear a hail of bullets coming from both sides. I look on as some of my fellow rebels fall. For some, death is immediate, but others cry out in agony as they try to take their own mangled bodies out of the line of fire.
I look around for Brea and can’t find her. This worries me. I look around the corner and I see her fighting hand to hand with a guard who normally, is standing right outside the mess hall to greet us every day. I continue helping drag injured people off to the side. Then, right behind Brea I see a guard with a large, deadly looking hunting knife. He gets closer to her with murder in his eyes. I call out to her, but as always she’s too focused on battling one person at a time.
At that moment everything seemed to happen very slowly. As I watched the guard get closer to Brea, I looked on, unsure what to do. I can’t let her die.
I take out one of my jewel encrusted daggers, and as he lifts his knife so that he may jam it into the back of Brea’s skull, I release my grip.

Within a second the guard lies dead on the floor, the blood steadily seeping out of his neck where my dagger penetrated through to the other side of his throat. I immediately turn cold. I had killed that man. I took his life before he could take Brea’s, and strangely, I feel no remorse. Truthfully, killing that man was all too simple. It worried me how easy and painless it was for me to take a life. At that moment I swore to myself that if I could help it, I would never kill again.
I don’t ever want to become one of those people who once they’ve had their first taste of blood, can never stop killing. I will do anything possible to prevent myself from being corrupted like that.
Quickly, I rush over to Brea’s side and pull my prized dagger out of the guard’s neck and drop his limp head back on the white tile with a sickening thud.
“Thank you,” Brea mutters softly to me before running off to battle some other guard.
“You’re welcome,” I reply, even though she is no longer there as I wipe the blood from my dagger onto my sleeve.

As quick as possible, I leave the main battle area and head back towards the arena. On the way there I had to avoid quite a few corridors so that I wouldn’t be caught up in any more battles. There was fear and panic in the air, I could feel it, everything was high-strung, but I couldn’t
pin-point where the panic was coming from. There was so much of it, from so many directions, that it hurt me. The sounds of pain and battle dug into my skin like nails. I can’t watch anyone else die this morning, guards or rebels. Then quickly, I slipped into the arena where nothing greets me but the eerie silence.
Then, I heard him not far behind me. “Hello pet, what are you doing here?”
“I can’t see any more death this morning. It sickens me,” I respond.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. It usually takes a while to get used to the idea of death. It won’t be too long until death is just an insignificance you throw over your shoulder. How are we doing?”
“A lot of people are dying if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Good, good. Remember once you get out of here…”
“Head to New York,” I finish, “yeah I know we’ve gone through this already.”
“Do you know how to get to New York, pet?” He asks, smiling.
I pause with my mouth open, unable to speak. Truthfully I did not know how to get to New York from here; I had completely forgotten to think that part through. “No,” I reply quietly.
“Ah,” he says, “Well, seeing that I’m in quite a fantastic mood at the moment I’ll give you a bit of help. All you have to do is keep walking until you find a highway. Continue North on that highway, and I’m pretty sure road signs will point you in the direction you need to go.”
“Okay,” I say cautiously, “thanks.”
“That’s what I’m here for pet,” he says with a smile. “You’ve done really well and I believe you have shown a great amount of both courage and loyalty.” He says praising me.

About a half hour had passed before I heard cries of triumph all throughout the base. Then, I knew for sure we had achieved our goal and had killed every single guard. We were now free to go, and I couldn’t be more unhappy.


+++


The time now is six in the morning, and all three-hundred and five survivors are gathered in the arena. Everyone has their personal possessions packed, and a group of about fifty is carrying all of the food and supplies. Another group of children are carrying all of the weapons. Again, they are all waiting for my signal so that they may go up the ladder to meet the sunrise.
After I give the signal, nobody moves. They just continue looking at me. This makes me feel slightly insecure, yet confused. Pretty soon, Brea comes up and gives me the biggest, warmest hug that I have ever received. Then, she whispers warmly in my ear, “We all want you to go up the ladder first, Jo. You deserve it.”
“Really?” I ask, flattered.
Brea just nods and smiles at me. I walk through the crowd and am received with nothing but warm smiles and an appreciative “we did it” here and there.
As I stepped up the ladder, I thought about what it would be to see the sunrise as someone who is finally free. Then as I reached the top and opened the hatch, my thoughts were totally wrong. The sunrise wasn’t just magnificent. It was the most radiant, beautiful sunrise that I had ever experienced. I took a few steps forward, and then I got down slowly lying on the grass.
“Magnificent, this world, isn’t it?” I say to nothing in particular. Enjoying the radiance.
I laid there for what seemed like hours watching the rays of sunlight reflect off of everything. I lay there, just enjoying the warmth of the sun on my arms and legs. Sometimes, even with all of the darkness and fear, this world of ours is quite amazing. If I had things my way I would have never left the beauty of that utterly perfect moment.
“Destiny is usually just around the corner. Like a thief, a hooker, or a lottery vendor: its three most common personifications. But what destiny does not do is home visits. You have to go for it.”
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind
  








There is a difference between being poor and being broke: broke is temporary; poor is eternal.
— Robert Kiyosaki