The palace has hundreds of bedrooms in it. Each person claims one as their own. I snag a room on the top floor all the way down the hall. Alan and Jax get rooms across while Oliver gets one right beside me.
"I'm going to catch up on some sleep." I quietly enter my new room and set down the two small bags.
The room consist of a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser with a mirror attached. I pull out one of my uniforms and head off the showers right on the other side of my room.
Blood runs down the drain as I wash off. I swear they shower taste like salt water as if it had came from the sea. It takes me back to battle. Suddenly I tank myself out of the shower and get dressed. I dive into my bed once I get to my room.
My exhaustion gets to best of me when my head hits the pillow. Unfortunately, dreams are not an escape for me. Dreams brings back the torture. My dreams start with Henry looking at me and pushing me out of the way.
"Scarlett!" Rings through my ears. Henry's cries evade my dreams as I struggle to save him.
I can't see him! My head is spinning as I scream.
"Scarlett!" General Logan is shaking me awake. My lungs struggle to pull in air.
"He's dead! I couldn't save him!" I scream as general Logan wraps me into a hug. Oliver, Jax, And Alan are surrounding the bed.
"It's ok. This is what usually happens. You will learn to not be so haunted soon. I promise." General Logan tells me as I slow down my breathing.
When he releases I get out of bed.
"We ordered you clothes. They are in your dresser." General Logan points out to me as I walk over.
I grab out a pair of pants and a jacket.
"I'm going to the bar." I say after I get dressed.
Nobody follows me out of the palace. I smuggle some cigarettes out with me as I walk to the Summerton Rumble. The first cigarette hooks me into the pack.
I'm in my fourth cigarette by the time I'm at the bar. Frankie, the bartender, looks at me with soft eyes.
"Hey, Scarlett. What will it be?" He ask me as I slide into a bar stool.
"Whiskey." I'm at hoping to drown in the liquor. He slide me the glass. I chug it down and ask for something stronger.
After a few of those I take a break. I had already been there for about two hours
YOU ARE READING
The Fighter
FantasyShe signed a draft to feed her older brother and dad. She was promised never to be picked because of her gender. But when new tactics are laid in front of her colony she is the answer to winning the world war.
