I've tried to upload quicker this time :) And, like the last chapter, the part from Sherri's point of view occurs before the rebel attack. Yes, she's up in the middle of the night, I realize that. She's a rebel child, I guess ;)
Happy reading!
•Chapter 35•
"Mummy exists!" insists Sherri tearfully. "I know she does!"
"Oh, honey, I know she does!" exclaims the woman. "What I mean is that since she isn't listed here. I'm sorry, honey, I should've thought how terrible that sounded before saying that. Basically, what I mean, darling, is that it is unknown to us Guards that she was even jailed."
Sherri nods, comprehending. "Oh." She simply says.
"Come on," the kind woman says. "Let's go." She offers her hand to the young girl.
Sherri slips her hand into the woman's large, rough, calloused outstretched hand, and together, they walk down the dark halls of the jail. "Hmm …" muses Sherri. "I wonder where, um, Harold went?"
"He's probably off to another section of the jail," replies she. "We all patrol different parts, of course, and, if my calculations are correct, it's his turn to guard Section C."
"Oh" is all Sherri returns.
They turn another corner, and Sherri stumbles upon something. "Um, officer?" says Sherri tentatively, not really knowing what to call the woman.
"Yes?"
"Why is there stuff laying around on the floor?" questions Sherri. "It's pretty dark in here, and someone can easily trip on it. I almost did."
The woman's eyebrows fly up. "Oh?" she murmurs. "We usually don't have debris lying around … Harold must've dropped something, that careless man. I don't know how heavy it is. I'll get it out of the way, okay," she says, and realizes that she doesn't know the girl's name, "uh, what's your name?"
"Sherri."
"Sherri, and you'll stay behind me, okay?"
She nods.
The woman moves in front of the girl and bends down, hands out to push the object out of the way. It is heavier than she expects. She feels fabric wrapped around the object, feels firm, and it is slightly sticky. "What is that?" she mutters.
After pushing it out of the way, she pulls out her flashlight, and clicks it the switch to ON, curious to see the object. She suddenly gasps, horrified, and drops the flashlight. It hits the floor with a loud thud and continues to shine its beam onto the object. "What is that?" Sherri asks, curious, peering around the officer. The officer quickly tries to cover the eight-year-old's eyes to shield her from the gruesome scene that lies before her, but it's too late.
Sherri has already seen it.
The sound of shattered glass rings throughout the hallways. Screams are cut short. America sits on their bed, unmoving, staring at the wall. Maxon hovers over her, his brown eyes glancing worriedly at his wife. "America? Ames?" he asks, attempting to have her talk. "Please, my darling, talk to me," he pleads.
"How will getting me to talk help our children?" America finally speaks, her voice flat. "I just feel so helpless, just sitting here, while who-knows-what has happened to our kids."
"Well …" Maxon says slowly. "Perhaps you can start with telling me about that girl." He coughs into his sleeve, the cough causing his shoulders to shake.
"Her name is Charmaine," corrects America, "not 'girl'. And," continues the Queen, "why don't you believe her?"
"Don't you think it is a little fishy, her coming here, and then a few weeks later, POOF!, another war starts to spark?" replies Maxon. "I mean, maybe she was lying this whole time."
"I don't think so. I felt that connection when I first interacted with Char. It felt similar to the bond Cassie and I share, but not as strong?"
"Why wouldn't it be as strong? And maybe it's a psychological thing. Perhaps you were so desperate to believe that she's your daughter, that you willed yourself to feel it," Maxon points out, his voice soft..
"No," America replies, shaking her head, "I felt that connection before she told us, Max."
He doesn't reply.
"I know that this seems like kind of a weak point, but … she looks like us. Looks like her twin. Her brothers. With her honey blonde hair from you and her blue eyes from me … she looks like a Schreave." Suddenly, she gasps. "And … wait. Remember, after Cass was born, but the other twin was still inside of me, the nurse told me, 'Oh, Your Majesty, I see her blonde hair! Push, miss, push!'? She couldn't have been mistaken! And I know what I remembered!"
Maxon was looking out the window, but after his wife stopped talking, he turns his head to her, appearing to be interested.
"Maxon," America says firmly, walking over to where he sits, reaching her violinist's hands out and gripping her husband's shoulders. "Charmaine is the true princess. Please, believe that."
The Queen continues on, feeling more and more confident with every word. "Don't you think that it's a little fishy," she uses the same words Maxon used earlier, only to defend a different person, "that Char comes to tell us about her identity, and later, Therese comes? In such a short while, maybe three or four weeks? It's like Therese waited for Char to come, before appearing herself. It can't be such a coincidence, you know, two girls claiming the exact same thing. And it was Therese who suggested the DNA test, remember? Perhaps she could've switched the results around. And the dye that I found … her real hair colour is brown. I looked that the roots of the strands of hair in her comb."
She pauses, taking a deep breath.
"And about the connection thing ... I never felt that connection with Therese." she adds. "Speaking of her, where is she?" America wonders to no one in particular. To Maxon, she questions, "Well, then why are you so sure that Therese is our daughter, not Charmaine?"
He still doesn't answer.
"Max?" America asks.
He opens his mouth, in an attempt to speak, but no sound comes out. "Max?" America asks again, worry seeping into her voice. "What's wrong?"
He simply shakes his head, and suddenly, an alarm comes through. But it is not the rebel alarm, since they already are in the palace. The fire alarm. As if on cue, smoke starts to seep through the tightly shut door of their suite. Within seconds, the room is full of the hazy smoke. Covering their noses and mouths with their sleeve, they quickly run to the balcony doors, and attempt to open it, with no avail.
They are trapped.
Sherri can only stare at the figure on the ground in horror, frozen.
A middle-aged man lies before her, his uniform covered in blood. His blood. His throat is cleanly split open, in a bloody "U" shape, like a bloody, grimy smile. On his chest lay a single piece of thin, white paper.
The woman gingerly picks it up. She reads:
HE'S THE FIRST ONE.
AND HE CERTAINLY WON'T BE THE LAST.
Suddenly, the door bursts open, and the ceiling starts to crumble. Rocks are falling everywhere, some on prisoners' heads, others crashing onto the stone ground.
Sherri screams in terror at the chaos, and her cry is cut short when a rock, slightly larger than the size of her fist, flies towards her and finds itself a home in the side of her head.
If you can find the Hunger Games reference in this chapter, I'll give you a shoutout!
Okay, sorry, not review answering today. I'm really busy :( As well, apologies that this chapter was shorter than most. I'll try to make the next one longer :D
RQOTD: Name one thing you eat that many of your friends find strange
Answer to RQOTD (Chapter 35): Yep, it was Pi Day! My dad loves math and was kinda disappointed that we didn't celebrate it or something, lol
Thanks for reading!
-K