Personified

Chapter 1- Page 2

Zach

God my head is throbbing. I do not remember a single bit of yesterday. I am very confident I tried to outdrink Lewis again, and again was off my ass while Lewis or Anna tossed my ten drinks to drunk self into the station. 

I finally decided to open my eyes and get up from my seat. "Hey, you with the scar. What time is it?" It was an older man who happened to have a pretty rough scar that looked like it probably came from a working accident. The scar was pretty thick and spanned most of his neck, you really couldn't miss it. "It's just about 9 am." NO! Regis is going to flail me till my back is leather.  I look at the scarred man with my eyes wide, immediately get up and make my way to Fort Latten.  

Fort Latten is my home. I'm a guard, so I get to live on base and the freedom of moving out. Its alarmingly lucrative to be a guard, but this also one of the only capital jobs that has the chance of getting you killed on your home ground. Needless to say, the capital isn't always the safest, but nothing that should worry me.  

"Zach.. why the hell are you late." Regis screamed at me. He is the captain of the South Patrol team, the team I patrol with. Known secondly as Ripper Regis, for how he swings a whip. "I apologize Sir. I used my day off and visited my home." I responded preparing to get beat and scorned for the week. "You can look me dead in the eyes and give me an excuse... LIKE I CAN CARE ABOUT YOUR BULLSHIT. You are running your route alone with no backup for the week, that's an order, you understand?"  "Yes Sir" 

I might die this week. Running routes anywhere as a guard is near death sentence. I guess he didn't have coffee this morning or he'd have had the energy to leave me tied to a post after getting my back turned into a butcher shop. 

Emma

"Kiss my ass Michael." My closest friend and companion. Michael Embers, the most charming garbage excuse for a friend I will ever have.  He has been my closest friend since I moved out of Annas a few years ago. "Emma all I am saying is that I legitimately think you have a problem with... self-image?" I scoff a bit. Dramatically to add too my obvious level of bafflement. "What are you talking about, I mean look at me, I'm fantastic. I don't know a single reason for me to not want to be me" Michael just rolls his eyes. I don't know what he is even trying to say? I'm a perfect bill of health. Fantastic personality. My looks are equal to goddesses. 

Michael isn't being mean. He is just making sure I don't let myself lay victim to the common personal misconceptions, such as not recognizing my brilliance or beauty.  He couldn't be jealous, could he? No. He is nearly on the same level as I am. His deep auburn hair, and chiseled face. The only thing I know he has on me is his ability to understand people.  It's a skill I've never possessed, nor care about frankly. 

"Emma all I am saying is you may have adopted an inappropriately sized sense of self. You have a lot of aspects to boost your ego, but perhaps it's a good idea to consider how people who don't have those aspects will react to you?" I don't respond... I need to think and consider. "I see the reasoning in that. The population of those don't have the right qualities will feel lesser and less likely to allow me to do what I want. Yes?" He looks amazed, but not how he should after giving quite the helpful advice. "I- Sure, that's likely the best I'll be getting out of this exchange."

Markus 

I'm woken up in the middle of the woods. Beyond lost. Woken by the pain of my currently still busted foot, also is now more swollen. Little black in the toes too. So basically, I NEED TO GET HELP. RIGHT DAMN NOW. "HELP, SOMEONE HELP." At this point I can walk for a minute or two before I have to rest. I have to keep going I can't die like this. It's dark still, but the sun is rising and I'm sure it's close to the morning bell.  

If I die from this, I'm never eating random herbs in dead shaman's house ever again. Never thought that would end up being an issue I thought I'd face. After about a mile, 40 mins later. I finally see light from somewhere other than the rising sun. Either I'm dying or that's someone's home. As I get closer, I was wrong both times... It's worse. It's guards on a patrol. I stay still, but I'm still on a bum foot. I try getting farther from the tree line. Only a few steps in I fall. This time I failed to control my reaction to the pain, and I let out a cry. I'm seeing stars again as I get up. 

Everything's dark like I'm looking through my eyelids, my ear's sound like I'm waterlogged. But I can tell I am moving. No idea. But my body is too beaten and malnourished. I can't get my eyes open or even speak. I can hear a few men and women talking.  All I catch is mentioning's of Anna, A few other names, a "poor man's clinic".