Twenty-Eight
"Look! It's Anxiety Girl!"
"Oh, so I'm the one messing with heads? Little Miss Bipolar Freak!"
"Hey Anxious, why don't you cry to your mom? Oh wait, you don't have one!"
"I'd rather be a 'jerk face' than a manipulative little bitch!"
"Get up and stop moping."
"You're so stupid. I just want to cry when I look at you."
"You think I care?"
"Whatever."
"Crying is a sign of weakness."
"It's not opening!"
"I'll beat you. I'm serious."
"We're all going to die!"
"There's nothing I like more than stamping out the fight in pretty little rebels like you."
"You're my little monkey, right?"
"Keep it up and I'm selling you to the brothel."
"Sara, sometimes I wish you'd just shut up."
"Three days no meals. That should teach you a lesson."
"God, you're so weird."
"Nobody cares. It's time you learned that."
"I knew all these violent video games were a bad influence on you! Next thing I know, you'll be killing people and engaging in premarital sex."
"Hey, looks like you've got a fever there. Why don't we cool you down?"
"You're gonna die little girl! You're gonna DIE!"
"What happened to you?"
"What happened to you?"
"What happened to you?"
"What HAPPENED to you?"
I stared him down, the eyes of the high and mighty headmaster. The leader of this gang. The man who owes me a childhood.
"What…what happened to you?" He rasped, trying to pry the broken glass out of his neck.
I tossed the bottle aside and peeled his arms down, kneeling on his elbows.
"You did."
And I began to hit him. With my arm. The very arm he just broke.
It was like with Shan Yu, only no eagle. I looked him in the eyes and hit. Endlessly. Nonstop. Slam…slam…slam…slam…slam…slam…slam…slam…
That was the most brutal way I've ever killed someone. Years later, his death would still haunt me to the core of my being. Whenever I saw an arm in a cast, I never thought to sign it. All I could see was a weapon. The very weapon that mercilessly bashed a man's face to smithereens.
I plucked the tooth out of my flesh. And I released the illusion. With an involuntary smile, I admired my handiwork.
I've never seen a more beautiful sight. It's like that neoclassical painting of those bodies. They lay on the ground, twisted and battered and unrecognizable.
Mine was much more a part of the realm of modern art. Glass and kitchenware handles stuck out from the contorted faces.
"Justice taken, justice received," I whispered. "It doesn't matter. We're all just corpses in the end."
I reached into my knapsack, pulling out the zippo I five-fingered. "Justice taken, justice received."
I clicked it open, staring into the flame. Inside, all of my stupidly childish hopes and dreams glinted.
I tossed it over my shoulder.
"I'm gonna survive. And when I do, you better hide. 'Coz I'm gonna kill you."
I shut my eyes, breathing in deeply. Any moment now, I'd hear the chorus of screams. The screams of the so-called "innocent". Who the hell did they think they are? How can they possibly justify standing there day after day after day, watching me in pain. Watching me hurt. Watching me suffer. They were no better than Meerkah and Sensei…and they deserved no better as well.
Nothing.
"What?"
I turned around. Yes, the paper had caught, the entire structure a sacrificial alter in the sky. However, there was no screaming.
No screaming.
"No?"
I couldn't comprehend. Why was there no screaming? The children are inside. Those snarling little brats…and nothing came of it.
No screaming.
So I did what any batshit insane chick would do in my situation.
I threw back my head and did a little screaming of my own.
000
There wasn't a soul in the castle. I didn't understand it.
I knew the kids could fight, and they had formed bonds with one another (the Academy had yet to invoke the lesson of independence). So I knew I could provide them with shelter and leave in good faith. I was just expecting to fight off some heartless.
Nothing.
The children were so joyful, running up and down the dank halls. Compared to the strict cleanliness of the Academy, this was an adventure.
I turned to Mirlya, one of the older students. She was about thirteen, with bright orange eyes and a chipper attitude.
"Be careful. This technically isn't my home to give."
"With all due respect, for the last seven years I've done nothing but kicked ass." She replied, "And if your protégé managed to slaughter all the head individuals with only a few months training, think about what we can do."
"I honestly don't want to."
"So…I'm in charge?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Formulate a government or something." I created a door back to Sara.
"Oh!" She tugged my sleeve. "This Sara…she's the one that planned this, right?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Can you thank her for us?" Mirlya tightened her hold. "They were ten days away from sending me to a brothel."
"Oh…ok. I'll be sure to do that."
Yeah right.
"And come back if you need anything. We'll need some time to adjust, but I have a few plans going around in my head."
"Uh…ok."
"A new Academy," she beamed. "The Gatekeeper Academy…sounds nice…"
I left her to her musing, believing her to be an idealistic, naïve child.
Little did I know that in twenty-four hours I'd be dead, and Sara would seek out this place during a journey more difficult than I could ever imagine.
Especially because she would be in it alone.
