We walked, and walked, stopped only to sleep and when my constant chatter got too much for the boys. At ever chance I got I untied my hands but they were still red raw by the end of the journey. We seemed to reach a destonation, a small house deep in the forest. I felt the urge to ask if I got a red cloak, but did kidnappers really deserve my witty comments?
A woman walked out, taller then me with fair hair and deep blue eyes. I smiled and greeted her politely, almost reflexively. I felt myself transform into perfect mode, I had been slipping more and more in the presence of my captors, sarcasm, rudeness and (worst of all) I had discussed politics at dinner yesterday! Still, all fun things must come to an end.
The woman looked at me and screeched,
"So, you are the torturing, murdering thing, I've heard so much about"
Did I hear that correctly? Did she just insult me? The kidnapped one? I hid my indignation, a skill honed from years of practise,
"It may seem like that but no, I am neither a murder or tourter" Cue bright laugh, "All though your companions may disagree, I have been talking their ears off the entire journey, definitely a form of torture."
She frowned, clearly she didn't believe me, I felt the sudden urge to explain, to justify my role, but what would be the use? She could make more rude remarks, yell and rant at me. It wasn't worth it.
I was shoved in through the doorway and up to what seemed like a study, filled with people, an old man, the unpleasant woman from downstairs and my two besties from the journey.
Again, I politely introduced myself as an Angel only for the old man to frown.
"I asked you to kidnap an executioner, not a pretty little Angel! We want people to like us, to listen to us! What kind of person likes someone who kidnappers a, what 17, 18 year old Angel. People love them! Think of our image!"
He turned to me, and asked me about myself, growling at the others, "There better be something off about her, something we can exploit or your both in trouble!"
I answered his earlier question in my most calming, melodious voice, "I am 17 and an Angle. My hobbies include ballet, reading, baking and volunteering. I live with my father-who is a docter and my younger brother who...."
He stopped me by slamming his hand down on the wooden desk, "You managed to kidnap the most perfect member of society! She is literally the epitome goodness." He stood and started to pace around behind his desk as he continued to think out loud, "If this gets out everyone will hate us. Think of the media coverage, I can see the headlines now-'Devils steal our Angel!'
Take her to one of your rooms while I think of a way to stop is looking like evil, deranged terrorists!"
I decided not to tell them that that's what I thought they were instead I just smiled and allowed them to lead me to my new room. On the way, I chatted about mundane things, the weather mostly, I had really run out of conversation on the journey here.
When we reached the doorway T.D.B.O. looked at me and gave me a sort of grimace, which I assumed to be a smile,
"I don't supposed you'd join our cause?"
I allowed myself a derivative snort, he wanted to be my friend?
"I don't negotiate with terrorists"
He moth dropped open and his entire countenance took on a look of complete and utter shocked, he acted like a kicked puppy,
"Is that how you see us? No, we are freedom fighters, we are going to achieve freedom everyone", he breathed out, almost in a whine.
"I feel wonderfully free, thank you, the bindings round my wrist just really intensify that feeling, and when your take away my vote and therefore my choice and free will I will feel even more free" I could see him try and shy away from the truth, see him try and find away to justify his work, and fail. I could see the fury build in his eyes, along with denial,
"At least I don't kill innocent people!" He screamed back at me, face going as red as his anger grew, his voice dropped and he almost hissed his final sentence, "Not. Like. You"
Fury flooded my body, it was one thing to kidnap me, to attack my society, but to attack my job, a job that kept everyone safe, a job he clearly knew nothing about. Well, that was another matter entirly. Tears filled my eyes but I didn't let them fall, instead I took a deep breath and calmly replied, not with a phrase learnt from my mother or a coworker, but with my true feeling. I poured in my feelings of both love for my society and trust in that was doing the right thing,
"I help those people, help them, even though most of them are murders, liars, cheats. Most of them have caused more pain in their life time, more hurt, then ten other citizens but I treat them all the same. They put our way of life at risk. You may not think they deserve death, but they should die.
And you aren't even defining murder, if it is someone who kills another, then I am innocent. But if, and I think you do, you believe that the blame lies with the person who gives the order, well then it is every man or woman who voted for our government is gulity "
With that, I turned and waited for one of them to open the oak door for me. Owin, with an expression of absolute awe, twist the handle and held it. I walked into a small, sparsely furnished room. It contained a small bed, an overflowing bookshelf, a wooden bedside table completely with a miniscule draw and a rickety chair. Everything was clean, which was something to be grateful for, I still remembered the dog blanket, and it with give me some privacy. Something I desperately needed.
Owin told me where the loo was and wear I could wash my clothes, and then (in what was supposed to be an assertive voice) ordered me not to escape. I didn't mention that this would probably be the best for all concerned, judging by the leaders reaction to me.
When they left, I immediately yanked of my green dress and pulled on my white uniform. I couldn't stand wearing that dress for another second. I then went to wash it, relishing the feel of clean fabric against my skin.
Whist I scrubbed the dress clean in water heated on an old fashioned Arga, (apparently electricity is no longer pumped to places this far out), I pondered the group's motives. I wasn't swayed by their argument, not by a long shot, but I wondered why they were. What was so repellent about our way of life? Did they not like the dress code, or the way jobs were distributed. No, they suggest that we lacked freedom. I shook my head in an effort to rid myself of such troubling thoughts and instead thanked the frequent winter power cuts for the ability to launder by hand.
The dress at the top is her dress in black instead of green and with the middle section in a butter yellow. Remember she was going out with her friend so it is more elaborate then her normal dresses.I will look for one of her uniform next time :)
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Angel of Mercy
FantasyI was eight when I first saw a man executed. Nine when I saw the tenth. Ten when I stopped counting. Before each of these men died I dressed their wounds, bought their food, gave them a smile when they expected a frown. I was their hope, the thing t...
