I stare out the window, the city's blinding white lights mocking me. I make a disgusted face and yank the floral curtains back aggressively. I fetch myself against the wall and my motto plays in my mind like a broken record.
My name is Clare Timorly, I am sixteen years old.
I am loyal to the Antarctic Nation.
I live off the oxygen of war and I won't betray my country.
My promise is to protect, not destroy.
Republics are my enemy and must be eliminated.
I clench my hands into tight fists and pound them against the wall. When did it come to this? Why is my mind rejecting loyalty? Am I resisting? No, this can't happen; I don't want to die. The chip in my brain that once held humanity is throbbing. My hands become clammy and I wipe the sweat from my brow. You can do this, Clare. You are not resisting; you're the Snow Warner, remember? I nod self-consciously and stagger to the couch, my bones aching. Right before I lay myself down there's the cacophony of sirens and I jerk to my senses. My meltdown forgotten, I throw on my uniform hastily and practically fling myself from my flat.
The arctic air slaps my face as I run, but I don't seem to feel it. My instincts drive me to the noise of sirens and the world seems to focus on this moment. I dodge people trying to finish their mundane chores. I turn a corner and down an alleyway, my mind calculating the route of the city. I see the imprint of the streets inside my eyelids and I focus entirely on it. I finally reach the ear-piercing screams of vehicles and I strain my eyes to see. The soldiers are scattered all around me, keeping their weapons close. I look over and see the actual scene. My eyes widen and every other noise becomes the dulcet sound of my heartbeat. Everything blurs except my center of focus on the boy. Golden, blonde hair that shines so bright, I reach up and shield my eyes. I notice the sparkling blue eyes and cocky expression. He's wearing black everything from shoulders down, including black gloves. There's soldiers surrounding him in a circle and have their weapons pointed at him and their expressions austere. The boy has his hands up in mock defense, clearly not worried at all.
"Just shoot him!" I hear one of the soldiers shout. Several things occur at this moment. First, I see the movement from the boy, he moves so fast he blurs. The next thing I know, he's on top of one of their trucks and is laughing. Laughing? Why is he laughing? The soldiers send bullets flying, but the boy's too fast. The bullets pierce the truck and the soldiers stare in confusion. All of a sudden, I feel a strong arm wrap around my neck and the feel of a knife against my throat. The soldiers turn their guns towards me, and then freeze.
"Stop!" The boy yells from the back of my head. "Or I'll kill your precious Snow Warner." His voice is heavenly. I slap myself mentally at thinking about that right now. Bile fills my throat, leaving me speechless.
I think about all the things that have happened in the past few months. The anger and frustration of the pain and grief of my parents passing away. The never ending sound of bullets and shouts of sirens. The Electors thinking they make grandiloquent speeches that persuade the people of the nation. They're fools, fools and their stubbornness. Leaving me to do their dirty work and live with the guilt and regret for killing someone. The rage that tears my mind apart and sands me down to nothing. I'm worthless, just a girl who's trapped in some world that forces her to contradict herself. To make her seem ruthless and cruel, when she's not. I'm sick of it, sick of all of it. I can't live with it anymore. I hate being stuck inside some robot that cares about nobody. I can end this, return to normal. Be with my parents. All the things they wanted me to be, the strong warrior; is gone. Replaced by some Antarctic puppet covered in blood and guilt.
I now close my eyes tightly and tears spill down my cheeks. Everything that I've been holding in, comes out through my tears. I blink through the blurriness and make my expression as plain as I can.
"Go ahead." My words come out strong and brave, the way I wanted them to. I feel the boy tense behind me, obviously he doesn't want to. The hesitation in his task makes more tears spill onto my cheeks. "Do it!" I yell, a sob inching its way up my throat. I look at the soldiers' faces. They have sympathy and anger mixed together in their expressions. "Do it." I repeat, but this time in a whisper. "Please." The word chokes out of me and every time I swallow I feel the blade against my neck. My last breath comes out short. The pain eases as I fall into a pool of darkness.