CHAPTER TWELVE

11

The great book, page one, paragraph three, sentence two: 'Killing is in our nature, and therefore, death is nature's way of showing our superiority.'

That's what it says, right there, in the most important documents in the world, personally written by our great leader Setrákus Ra: Death is natural. Death inevitable. It's the price we pay for living, for breathing, for thinking, for anything we do; no matter whether it's good or bad. No matter if you are the predator or the prey. No matter if you are part of an almost completely wiped out alien race or of one that almost completely wiped it out.

Good. Bad.

Just words. Abstract words. I don't like abstraction. Dad once tried to explain it to me, but I didn't quite grasp the idea.

'Something you can't see or hear,' he had said. 'Something that's not really there.'

'Why does it have a name if it isn't really there,' I had asked. That didn't make sense.

'Well, technically, it does exist, but… it somehow doesn't, too,' he had said and scratched his neck, like he always did when he was at a loss what to do with me. 'Numbers are abstract, for example.'

That was something I understood. I like numbers. Counting, calculating, remembering. I like numbers. Seven-hundred-forty-four pages of the great book. Five-billion Mogadorian soldiers invading Lorien. Two-billion Loric defending it. Ten surviving the fight. Three of them dead. Ten minus three makes seven. Seven still alive. I like numbers. The meaning of abstract still is a mystery to me, though.

The great book, page ten, paragraph four, first sentence: 'Leaving the dead behind is inevitable for progress.'

"Inevitable." I mutter into my pillow, letting the word melt on my tongue.

I-n-e-v-i-t-a-b-l-e. Ten letters. The sound of this particular word has burned itself into my mind since ever since I first learned to read, leaving a scar of dark memories. Inevitable like the flow of time. Inevitable like the circle of life. Inevitable like progress.

Progress.

P-r-o-g-r-e-s-s. Eight letters.

'Progress is our true purpose, the one and only goal we aim at, the one and only objective worth of our glorious nation.' Page one, paragraph two, first sentence.

Progress is the most important thing in every Mogadorian's life. My people is convinced that nothing is equal to progress, every single one of us has to push progress as hard as possible, no matter the cost. It doesn't even stop at one's own life.

And progress doesn't allow sorrow, neither. Progress doesn't allow anything close to grief. Showing sympathy is not appropriate for such a superior race. No mourning, no crying, no weeping. No feelings at all, feeling mean weakness.

That's fine with me, I don't like feelings anyway. Feelings only cause trouble, trouble causes panic and panic causes seizures. I don't like feelings. The world would be better off without them.

And yet, the sight of my father's ash in this old, rusty coffee can pushes the tears into my eyes every time.

I sniff. Sadness is a feeling, and feelings equal weakness.

W-e-a-k-n-e-s-s. Eight letters again.

'Weakness stands in progress' way. All weakness needs to be crushed.' Page two, paragraph six, third sentence.

Emotions other than rage and fury can't be tolerated. Emotions other than rage and fury must be extinct. In a world of continuous progress, there's no place for unnecessary frippery like emotions.

Emotions.

E-m-…

My bedroom door opens and Kelly enters. I quickly sit up and slam the lid of Dad's coffee can shut.

"Gosh, Anivia, You're still here?" She impatiently sighs when she spots me cowering on my bed. She glares at me with that threatening, daughter-of-the-General look and I immediately stand up from my bed. I don't want to make her mad by not showing her my due respect. Not today.

I want to answer her, to explain that I was caught up in thoughts and that I forgot about time. To apologize submissively as it is expected of me. But when I open my mouth to answer, I somehow can't get a sound out. I clear my throat and try again. No success again. All that I manage is some gargling cawing. I cough a couple of times and almost choke. It feels like a big lump is stuck in my gorge, blocking the entire air pipe. An odd stinging begins to spread across my chest, pinching off my throat.

I take a quick breath and try to exhale, but somehow I can't. The sudden blockade seems to only let air in, not out. I breathe in once more, just to make sure. Yes, definitely blocked. The air is stuck in my lungs, and no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to get it out.

My hand is shaking violently and I trip over something on the ground. Panic shoots through my mind, erasing all my thoughts, until there's only the desperate need for air. I take more and more breath, without being able to let the old oxygen out, until my lungs are filled to the top and I can't store any more. Desperately gasping for fresh air, my lips open and close uncontrollably, but still no sound escapes my throat. A spastic jerk goes through my legs, but it's the least of my worries. My eyes widen as my vision begins to blur from the lack of oxygen, and I shoot Kelly a panicked look.

"Not again," she says and yawns into her sleeve. She doesn't seem to care at all about my suffocating. "Come on, you're the one who should know what to. I'm not always here to get you out of this shit."

The world around slowly turns darker and darker. Ten maybe twenty seconds before I faint. I give Kelly another pleading glance and she finally takes pity on me.

"Your thought, Nivi, finish the thought. Gosh, why do I even have to tell you, it's not like you have those seizures all the freakin' time."

Her voice seems to come from far away, echoing like off of the walls of a tunnel.

Finish the thought, I keep repeatedly hearing her in my mind.

Thought.

T-h-o-u-g-h-t. Only seven letters.

'The right thoughts are what differs us from the minor creatures. Wasting thoughts on unnecessary matters is a hindrance and therefore dangerous to Mogadorian progress.' Page hundred-seventeen, paragraph five, fourth sentence.

Thought finished.

I gasp for breath. It still doesn't work.

It's like a part of my brain doesn't allow me to get new air into my lungs. My heart is racing, crying for fresh air to pump into my blood system.

Finish the other thought, a voice in the back of my mind seems to demand. Finish the other thought, that's what Kelly meant.

The other thought… What was the thought again?

Emotions!

E-m-o-t-i-o-n-s. Eight letters, once again.

'Ban all emotions from your soul, as they are the first step to hesitation.' Page twenty-six, paragraph one, third sentence.

Thought finished.

Once I have recited the last word of the phrase in my mind, the panicking seizure disappears, just as quickly as it came.

The lump in my throat is gone with it, and now that my throat is free again, I double over and throw up on the carpeted floor. With a loud pant I puff out all the air from my lungs and suck in fresh one.

Autism. I don't like my autism. Autism means seizures around the clock, every time I get excited or frustrated or scared or surprised…Well, every time something unexpected happens, there's a seizure. And seizures mean weakness.

I continue taking long, deep breaths. It always helps calming myself down. I count down from ten to one, an exercise Dad taught me. It keeps me busy while my mind and body returns to its usual state and I'm safe from another attack. 10, 9, 8…

Until my heartbeat finally slows down and my muscles begin to relax again, I remain completely motionless and rigid. 4, 3, 2…

After a while, when I have counted down from ten to one exactly fifty times, I open my eyes again, which I hadn't even noticed I had closed, and stand up from the floor, which I hadn't even noticed I had fallen to.

The short sensation of relief about being okay again quickly gets replaced by the shame and embarrassment of once again having a seizure in front of Kelly. I must never show any weakness. Especially not to her. Especially not today.

Kelly is just standing there in the doorframe, watching with a look of disgust as I painfully get on my feet. I avoid direct eye contact and brush the dust off of my blouse.

"This autism thing is getting worse, isn't it?" Kelly says as she sizes me up.

Autism.

A-u-t-i-s-m. Six letters.

One of the few words with no entry in the great book. Own definition: Hell.

Well, what can I say? The truth? The truth means admitting I'm weak. What would I accomplish by telling Kelly that my disability has been steadily deteriorating ever since Dad died six weeks, two days, and twenty one hours ago? Do I really believe that sharing this with her would make me feel any better? The best possible reply I would get from Kelly is that this whole thing is boring the shit out of her.

"I manage," I reply instead, and she gives me a crooked grin. She sees through me, she knows I'm lying, and she knows I know she knows it. And I bet my current condition amuses her, too.

Well, I probably do look quite miserable right now, still out of breath, my nose nastily runny. My short, spiky platinum hair must be a mess after wallowing on the floor.

I take a step towards Kelly to apologize for the seizure she just had to witness, to promise it won't happen again, even though we both know it will, but she immediately backs off as I come closer.

"Ew! You still just puked, Nivi. Don't come any closer, or I swear I'll have you fed to the Pikens. Get away from me, you idiot!" She screams and leans backwards to gain as much distance from me as possible.

I flinch back and mutter an apology. Kelly grimaces and shakes her head.

"Gross, you stink! How long ago was your last shower?" She says while waggling her hand in front of her nose. "Wash yourself and get dressed up, you can't meet to my father like that. You got five minutes."

"So the meeting with your father still stands?" I say in a relieved tone. After the seizure, I wasn't quite sure Kelly would keep her promise. But now that I mention my doubt, I immediately regret it. Kelly doesn't like being questioned. She frowns at me.

"Of course it still stands, or are you trying to say that I don't keep promises?" She replies. She glares at me in a way that sends icy chills down my spine, daring me to challenge her again.

"C-certainly not," I stutter and look down.

"Good," she says, satisfied she could prove who's boss once again. With a derogatory gesture she motions me to get into the bathroom. "Five minutes."

I nod.

"And, Nivi," She shouts as I turn to the bathroom door. "No more boondoggle! There's nothing the General hates more than waiting. Well, except for my beloved brother, maybe."

When I close the bathroom door, there's only four minutes and fifty-one seconds left.

Hello everybody!

First of all, thanks for your amazing reviews folks. They're seriously inspiring and just overall keeping my motivation up.

Secondly, I am sorry. Truly, truly sorry for making you wait so long with this chapter. I can't promise anything, but I'll try to get them out more often from now on.

With that being said, I have something else on my mind that I would like to let out.

After receiving several reviews and messages that pointed out that I had some characters say stuff they would never say in the real books or act in a way they actually never would, I read through my story again.

And I realized you were right.

The way Ella behaved much older than a twelve year old would in the chapters where she was kept prisoner in that cell actually was intended, but the rest, like adding some sort of cold, calculating side to Eight while taking away his playfulness and childishness, or having Six show an emotional edge way too easily and making her appear weaker than she is described in the books, all of this is just bullshit I didn't notice when I was writing it.

I've come to realize – and I really don't want to sound self-pitiful – that I haven't stayed true to the real books at all, which is a huge mistake. What I've done is kind of reducing all their individual features and characteristics to one sort of Mary-Sue-character, which is probably the worst thing that can happen in a fanfiction.

So to all of you who noticed that, thanks for pointing it out, I'll have to try and fix it.

Which leads me to the reason it took me so damn long to get this chapter out. I just wasn't satisfied with the rest of my story, and it really held me up and kept me from getting this out earlier. It frustrated me to the point that I just couldn't force myself to sit down and get shit done.

Well, I ended up doing it anyway, so sorry for making you wait and sorry for not having such a huge chapter done when I finally get it out. I hope you guys don't think this is just some bad excuse.

So, to keep you informed about the current state of the next chapter, I decided to post the progress of the story on my profile and update it each time I work on it. That way, you'll have a clue about when the next one comes.

So, a big thanks to all of you who actually read this message. I'll try to outline the relationships between the characters and the characters themselves better in future chapters, maybe even some love scenes (even though I suck at that), who knows.

If you can forgive me for taking so damn long, please leave a review :)

See you all next chapter, or on my from now on hopefully always updated profile page, if you want to check that out.

Until then, have a wonderful time, and thanks sooooooooooooooooooo much for continuing reading my story, even though I made you wait for so long.