Hey guys thanks so much for reading and reviewing I didn't read back over this chapter so sorry for all the grammatical mistakes and such, not my best, not my worst.
-THANKS- CLAIRE
Chapter 6.
I go over to comfort Johanna as the door slams coldly. She slumps against the wall and sobs. At first, she lets me, but gradually as her sobs soften she pushes me away. She begins to scream and pull her hair. But then her words come back to her and she pushes me against the wall. It's a giant blow and I've forgotten how strong she is.
"I hate you!" she screams, "I hate you! You ruined it!" We're going to die because of you." She jumps on me and begins to tear hair out, my hair, and punches me and rips my skin. I grab the mirror shard, the only weapon in sight. My vision starts to go red and I feel blood fill my mouth. I can barely see, but with my last glance, I see her fall next to me and her arm spills out blood which mixes with mine.
I wake up to see a thin, exhausted body trying to ration the breads evenly for 3 days. I also see a mirror shard next to her along with a comb. I sit up slowly and I begin to feel faint. I crawl over slowly behind her as to not startle her.
"If you want, I can wet you hair and comb it through." She looks at me with scared eyes, dewy with tears. "Never mind." She's afraid of water and I have forgotten. I'm sure she feels I've completely abandoned her. I turn away when she says:
"What are we going to do?" I look at her. Its like she's a little kid, looking to her parents for guidance.
"We're going to get through this, we're going to be ok. We're going to heal your legs and we're going to live." I hug her and she begins to sob softly.
"I miss home." She says.
"I know. You're not going anywhere until your legs mend back." She looks at me wide-eyed. I take a deep breath. "You will not leave this cell. From now on, I'm going to take your session too." She looks at me with these wide eyes and I have to look away. They are wet with innocence. All the boldness that she originally had has been stripped away. She is just a little girl again, younger on the inside than Nessarose. We sit there hugging each other and I rock her back and forth like I would do when Nessa was just born. I look out the cold window. Once again, Johanna has predicted what is going to happen. I am taking care of her, which can only lead to death. My eyes fill with tears. What awaits me outside of these walls? I haven't known anything but them for…how long? These walls are my world now. They are my safety net, I don't know anything but them. What is outside of them scares me. Will I turn out like Johanna? Will she be healed enough to take care of me? Will she want to take care of me?
In the morning, the guards come in. Among them, is Zeb. They go over to Johanna, but I was careful enough to make sure I'd be awake and she'd be asleep. I step in front of them. Before they can raise a hand to slap me away, I speak up.
"Wait, no!" They looked surprised, including Zeb. "I will go." They all look at each other, as if not knowing what to do. They then turn to Zeb. He looks uncertain, and then he glances at me as if saying, do not do this. The pains in his eyes are clear. Without turning his eyes away, a "very well" escapes from his lips. They grab at me roughly, with rough hands. I am all but dragged away and placed in an all white room. In here, I feel unclean and grimy and begin to realize just how dirty I am. Maybe this is my punishment; make me feel inferior and wrong. But I hear screaming down the hall and it comes closer and harsher. They can't figure anything out. They don't know me well enough, didn't ever watch me in the arena. The man I met from the hovercraft comes in and slaps his file down. He looks harried and has aged since we last saw him. I put on my best Johanna face. A smartass smile and an eyebrow cocked up create this façade that I've spent years trying to create has finally come into play.
"We meet again." I sigh. "Since you never told me your name I'm going to have to make one for you. How bout…Silver Fox…no Grandpa?" He smirks back.
"Funny." A sudden vibration in the floor, my chair, sends me reeling and my head begins to pulse. He raises an eyebrow. "I don't think you're in the position to joke, Mrs. Mason." I try to act unphased.
"Tell me your name." I say with gritted teeth. He is my match. My equal, always has one more trick up his sleeve.
"Bates." That is the man who causes all the torture and agony. "Now, you will answer my questions and you will not play with me, all I need do is flip this switch and you will regret your words." I nod stiffly. "Now, did your father ever partake in any illegal activity?"
"He was a sap addict." I cringe waiting for a zing but it never comes.
"Please, expand. I do not spend my time idling and researching and pouring over District 7 slang." I purse my lips to keep from saying something in vain.
"My father kept his addiction to nevaeh sap a secret until after mother died. He would come home at 4 in the morning instead of two. He had craved it since grade school. Nevaeh sap is a black, tar substance that can only enter your body through your arm with a syringe. It makes you incomprehensible and you become a sort of vegetable on it. It comes from the Neveah tree, one I don't dare climb. They are full of dangerous, ravenous creatures that are high on the stuff as well. The tree is full of it and you have to tap it to get it. My father paid a jack named Lars to tap it for him. He spent my mother's funeral costs on an extra surplus of it after she died." I was shocked on where that came from. I decide to add, "He's dead now, thanks to the blast, so there's no need to press charges." Bates looks up smugly and I instantly regret it as a surge of electricity runs through my body, every nerve, fried. My teeth chatter together, my eyelids flutter, this surge is stronger, and longer. I begin to watch myself carefully.
"Moving on." He picks something from his fingers and he pushes a picture from the files towards me, "Have you ever seen this man?" Palma. I instantly want to cry out, all of those memories that I've so carefully stored away while in months that it shocks me more than the chair. I draw in a sharp breath and he raises an eyebrow.
"Trying to remember," lots of people died you know when you murdered them and all, "I think he was an artist of some sort. I remember giving him some berries that he said he was making into paint for his daughter. So maybe his daughter was the artist…" I try to drown myself in thoughts. Just not giving a name to the face.
"And his name would be?" He gestures towards the switch and flinch.
"Palma, I think? No, I know his name was Palma." He smirks.
"I think you more than know, we have pictures of you with them every night in their hut. Must've painted an awful lot." A sudden jolt and it's instantly taken away. "TELL THE TRUTH! DID YOU OR DIDN'T YOU KNOW ABOUT THE ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES IN WHICH PALMA SANDSPRIDGE WAS INVOLVED IN?" A look of madness and rage appear in his eyes.
I cower back "No I had no idea, I wouldn't have helped him if I-" A look of rage tells me that I cannot do anything to defend or protect myself from the lashing sting that makes my head tingle and my vision start to blot out.
"Ms. Mason, I believe I have made myself clear when I tell you it would not be wise, to lie."
"But I'm not! Why won't you believe me?"
"If we believed you, you wouldn't be here now would you? Be honest, you've been involved in dangerous illegal activities since the day you were born!" tears are streaming down my face, this truly is torture. I sit trying to think of what I could say that would make him believe me.
"I mean, sure I've taken the fruit from the tree I've picked or some extra branches home, but I wouldn't call my job 'dangerous'" Rage covers his face, I know one more zap and I'll be gone, whether I'll be dead or just passed out I'm not sure, but as I hear the hum of the chair, my vision goes and I hear a sad sort of cackle, a "very convincing Bates, I'm impressed," by a voice I've never heard. It sends more ice down my back than the surge makes it feel like. The voice seems to be laced in venom, ready to kill at any second and as clean cut and sharp as slate.