No Hero

Just breathe

Freya

The moment my feet hit the slick surface I felt myself falling. With no time to react -no I was to stunned to react- I landed face first. The liquid immediately soaked into the left arm of my sweater, down my side and all down my pant legs. Scrambling I pushed myself up, in the process pulling my face out of the warm liquid. My hand rose to my face to wipe at the wet cheek. When I pulled back I saw red. Smeared on my fingers is the crimson color. My lungs fought against taking more air as I realized what I've landed in. 

Hesitantly I lifted my head more to find the source. "Oh my god" I gasped. Only a couple of feet from me laid a man. I shuffled over to him trying to think back to any guidance I got on patching wounds.

Looking down at him I forced myself to get a breath in and release it before I passed out. His chest and abdomen are littered with stab marks. My hands covered the deepest ones trying to slow down their bleeding. I felt the blood squish beneath my palms against the drenched fabric of his shirt. His eyes are closed and blood ran from the corners of his mouth. What do I do! My hands are too little to cover enough of the bleeding. "Hey" I gulped, shaking his body. Isn't it bad to close your eyes when you're this hurt? "Hey -hey wake up", nothing. Quickly I removed one of my hands and tapped his cheek before returning it to the wound. "Wake up!", Tears began to build up in my eyes but I tried to keep them from spilling. No good ever came from me crying. This man is dying. I don't know what to do I was never taught this, I was never taught any of this.

Behind me the door opened and boots thudded against the floor. There was silence besides my shaky breathing. The door latch clicked into place. This couldn't be the guards. There would be yelling and movement and pain as they zapped me with their batons. I looked over my shoulder while keeping pressure on the man. "Father" I met his eyes. He finished surveying the scene in front of him then scratched at the scruff on his cheek. He didn't speak as he walked over to the opposite side of the man. Careful not to step in the blood. "Help me. What am I suppose to do?" I was desperate and my voice gave that away. "Do do we tell the guards so they can call for medical?" I asked.

Father squatted down, looked over the man and promptly swatted my hands away. "If you are going to kill someone you do not call for the guards" his voice didn't show shock or panic just his usual tone of annoyance. 

"What? No, I didn't-"

"Either way this man is dead. Probably was before you even entered the room" he said.

"But how do you know?" I asked clenching my fists to stop their shaking.

Father's face snapped from annoyed to rage. Slap! I yelped landing on the clean part of the floor. I held my hand over my stinging cheek. "Haven't I worked the stupid questions out of your brain, child" he raged. His boot collided with my side making me yell out. "How about the size of the blood pool" he kicked me again. "Or that his chest isn't moving to visibly show his breathing" this time he struck me harder. I whimpered quietly and curled into a ball. I knew better than to back talk him, it would only make his beating worse. Through my tear filled eyes I saw him pace a few steps back and angrily gesture to the mans body, "For thirteen years I've raised you for a propose. One purpose! And this is how you want to ruin all that planning."

Many times he has ranted about a plan. Either to me or one of this several recruits. But not one time has he told me what my purpose is suppose to be. He many it clear I'm not one of the people he cares about, there wasn't room for me in his circle. If it wasn't for the need for me as one of this recruits I truly believe he would have killed me.

The sound of boots hitting the floor outside the room alerted him. He crouched next to me and yanked me up by my wrists. "You won't be in lockup long enough to feel it's safety" he growled.