The Streets of NYC, 2134
My mother stood there. Though this was only a dream, she stood there, arms open, facing me. Suddenly a man in all black jumped in front of me and raised a gun, the gun that would help protect me for the rest of my life. Back then I was only eight, but I taught myself how to fire one in mere desperation. He had his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot.
"Hand it over," said the man through gritted teeth.
My father. He had sleek brown hair and hazel eyes. He had the nerve to stand there, ready to shoot her. My father had been using my mother in ways that I couldn't understand. Now my mother finally had something to fight back with: a stack of legal rights papers. And she was prepared to hand them over at the cost of her life.
I looked at me, my eight year old self. I was trembling in fear, standing in front of mother, trying to protect her any way I could. I had a small revolver in my hand, but my father couldn't see it.
"Step aside Riley," said my father sternly. He aimed the gun at eight year old Riley, forcing her to move. Riley reluctantly stepped aside.
"Now for the papers," said my father, rubbing his hands together.
"No! Don't give them to him!" Riley screamed. Her hand found the trigger of the revolver.
"Give it to me," said my mother to Riley, "Give me the gun."
Riley had no idea what was going on. Hands trembling, she took out the gun and handing it to her mother, not knowing that she would regret that decision for the rest of her life.
"Goodbye Riley," said my mother, tears streaming down her face.
Mother aimed the gun at her head and pulled the trigger.
"No!" Riley screamed as my mother fell in a lifeless heap. She began to cry. Riley looked up at her father, surprised to see that he was smiling.
"Now what shall we do with you, little brat? An orphanage? Or shall I leave you on the streets to fare for yourself?" spat my father. He began to laugh devilishly. And then I woke up.
I jerked up. Beads of sweat covered my face. I gripped the iron bars, hands still trembling.
"Hunter?" I asked into the darkness of the cell.
"Give me 5 more minutes!"
I didn't laugh. What I had seen in my dream had unfortunately been reality.
"Okay what is it?" asked Hunter, crawling out of the dark.
"I was right there. I could have saved her!" I croaked, letting out a sob.
"It wasn't your fault," Hunter said. He knew what I was talking about. I had this dream almost every night.
"Come on Riley. It's time to go."
We boarded the government protected (just in case anyone tried anything stupid) hovercraft. The guards shoved us mercilessly into the hovercraft.
"Time to go," said one of the officials. His voice was deep, almost robotic. He handed me a jacket. It was black with red lining. Sewn onto the back of it was the American flag.
"They identify what country you come from," Hunter said. I nodded, though honestly I didn't want to represent the country that was sending me into a hole in the ocean to die.
I took one last glimpse at the grey, polluted sky that coated the NYC area. Hunter dragged me to a corner of the hovercraft. I was surprised that there was no straps to protect us. Well, I thought, if they cared about our safety, they wouldn't be sending us to the Pit.
We flew for hours. None of the prisoners spoke. Not even Hunter. I lay in his arms. He rubbed my back as an act of kindness, but it didn't make me feel any better.
I looked at my watch. The flight from NYC to the Pit was supposed to be 17 hours. It had only been 8. Hunter's hand ran down my arm. His fingers laced between mine. I felt a pang of guilt as I remembered yesterday's fight in the training room. His other arm started to slowly crawl down my neck and under my shirt. Although it was uncomfortable, I let him do it. I finally couldn't take it anymore. I turned around and kissed him.
I didn't care who saw us. All of the prisoners began to speak in hushed whispers. At first Hunter hesitated, but he embraced it. We kissed for two seconds too long. I laughed and Hunter did too.
"So, you aren't going to let me die anymore?" Hunter asked, a big grin plastered across his face.
"No, I'm not going to let you die. I never was," I said. The words were true. I felt like I was in a huge debt to him. I had let him get captured. I had never forgiven myself for that. But before I could apologize, he kissed me again. I could feel the beat of his heart, the warmth of his lips against mine. I put every second of the kiss into my memory.
"So what was that yesterday in the torture room?" I asked him quietly.
"They were trying to get information out of me about you, and I couldn't tell them. They told me they would torture you until I told them. I couldn't bear it. I know what it's like. I fought off the other guards and got you out." He shook his head. "it was hard for me to watch you. Gripping your neck, shutting your mouth so the water wouldn't get in. Or the fake water. I'm sorry I couldn't help faster."
I had no idea it was so hard for him. He'd been at this prison for two years. He had seen people come and people go. I shuddered.
We finally arrived at the U.S. drop off point. I heard my breath as I looked over the side of the plane. We were descending toward the ground now. The Pit floor was misty, so I couldn't see where the actual ground was.
20, 15, 10, 5 feet away from the mist. My heart was pounding so hard and loud I couldn't hear what Hunter was saying. Suddenly, I was shoved off the plane. I descended and hit the ground with a thud. Hunter immediately broke out into a run. I stood up slowly and began to run with him. All of the sudden, I felt a sharp pain up my back. I screamed and fell to the floor. I couldn't get up. The person, whoever they were, put their foot on the gash on my back and pressed down hard. I screamed again, and this time Hunter came rushing toward me, but stopped when he saw who my attacker was. I still had no idea. He stepped back, trembling.
He swallowed hard and said, "Leave. Her. Alone."
The attacker didn't move. A pool of blood was forming around me. I screamed as the attacker pressed harder onto my back.
"Hunter make him stop!" I screamed.
He nodded at me and lunged at the attacker. The attacker dodged, but that meant that he got off of me. I scrambled to my feet, trying to ignore the searing pain that tore up my back. I winced and looked over at Hunter. He and the attacker were having a fist fight. Hunter had a deep gash across his face. I tried to move closer to them, but every step brought a new wave of pain. The attacker wore a jacket with the German flag on it. Hunter punched the attacker in the jaw. The attacker flew backwards, hitting the ground with a thud. Hunter ran over and kicked him in the stomach, and then the face. He was dead. Hunter grabbed the sword the attacker had used to slash my back. I stood there, breathing heavy because of the loss of blood.
Hunter looked from the attacker, and then to me, and said, "Let's get to the supplies."
We trekked to the far right corner of the Pit. It was hard. I leaned on Hunter most of the way. It took us all day, but we finally got there. Hunter knelt down next to a box and popped the lid. He fumbled through the medical supplies until he found the needle, thread, and bandages. I looked at him horrified.
"Relax. I'm going to put you to sleep."
I sighed in relief. He took out a vile of clear liquid.
"Drink up," he said, handing it to me.
I took it in both hands and gulped it down. It tasted foul, but I expected that. Suddenly, my vision went dark. I fell back. And then, I couldn't feel anything.
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