After The War

Untitled Part 38

Face my fears? What did that even mean? I feared a lot. But I don't think that I would be able to face all of my fears. There was a reason that I built that wall in my mind. So this way, I could face my demons when I was ready to. one at a time, not all at once. I knew from the beginning that if I had to face all my demons at once, I wouldn't stand a chance. But that was what was going on as he strapped me into that machine. This must be what Lexie, Kissa, Devon and Cody went through. That experiment that I stopped. They were trying to break my friends. I think to myself. But I had stopped them before they could break them. Almost all of them anyways. Kissa was broken. But now there wasn't anyone coming to rescue me from it. I had to find a way to escape on my own. Before I can think of anything, the guys give me one more punch to the gut. "Make any attempt to escape, and your fears are going to be the least of your problem kid." He says, strapping my head firmly in place.

I take a deep breath, not knowing what would happen as soon as the machine started it's sick and twisted tricks on me. I knew what some of my fears were. That I would fail. That I would lose the people that were closest to me. I was afraid of so many things that I myself didn't know the entire list. I didn't want to know what or how this machine could break me, it was nearly laughable. That is. Until the visions started.

 I wake up with a gasp, not knowing where I was. I didn't know how old I was, or even what memory this was. But I do know that I hear voices. I creep out of bed, and only then do I notice what I'm wearing. The same pajama's that I used to consider my favorite when I was 10 years old. I'm wearing a 2 piece, shirt pants combo, decorated in power rangers. But not just any power rangers, but they were the power rangers Dino Thunder. I was 10, which makes this the year that my father had left us. Because of me. Because I wasn't strong enough. I can do nothing but watch, as my memory self gets out of bed, woken up by the voices. Voices that were going from starting off quiet, to shouting in a matter of minutes.

 I can hear my dad shouting, and that itself in scaring me. My dad never shouted, he would get angry and impatient, but he never shouted the way he was now. Even when I broke something important, like a rule or something, he wouldn't shout. I'm not saying that he was in complete control of his temper. But the fact that he shouted scared me. I slowly walked into the living room, getting closer and closer to the shouting.

 "Damn it sweetheart," I remember hearing my dad say, a loud bang follows, like he slammed something onto the table. "Just because we can, doesn't mean we should."

 "But dear, if we don't then they will come and take him by force. And more people will get hurt like that." My mom responded, using the same tone she would use with me when she was trying to calm me down, soothing but firm. "Why don't we just say that it's a vacation? we can make it like one?" My mom said. This brings up another memory, every time that my mom was about to deliver bad news, the hopeful tone that I started to find really annoying.

 "WE CAN'T ALWAYS PROTECT HIIM!" My dad shouted, causing me to jump and run into the farthest corner of the living room. What he said next sent shivers down my spine. "We can't send him to those bastards. But they still need someone to take his place. I'll go, and I'll make sure that they never come back for him again." My dad said. When he finished, I found myself running through the kitchen door.

 "Dad, you can't go. P-please, we need you. Mom needs you. I'll go. I'll go do whatever it is that they want me to do." I blubber out, stuttering in the process. My dad comes over to me, puts a comforting hand on my shoulder, before walking to the front door. Now that I'm older, I know that the next time that I see him will be the last. But that won't be for years. I watch as my memory self cries all night, unaffected by the soothing words that my mom was muttering. I'm brought back to reality, tears soaking into my shirt, my throat hurting from screaming so much. I'm dragged from the machine, still attached to the chair. I look around as the lights flicker in and out of focus.

"So, how is it that you can face your worst memory that you remember, and still be just fine?" I hear one of the guys as me. But I can't answer, my voice doesn't want to respond, even though I want to tell the goons to just leave me alone. The most noise that I can make is a low groan, which seems to draw their attention. "So it seems that you are being affected. But not enough." I watch in horror as they push me back into the machine.

 I wake up and look over at my calendar. It's October 13th, 2007, 3 years after my dad left us. I had woken up every day, fresh hope in my face, even though I heard what my dad had said. But every night it was the same thing. Disappointment, hurt. anguish. But for some reason, every day there would be fresh hope. But I couldn't keep going like that. I had already lost one person that was important to me. So to keep from going through that again I threw myself into books. I threw myself into worlds that were make believe. Books that were long forgotten that for some of the books I had to blow some dust off the covers. But that didn't stop me from my other endeavors. Every day from the time that my dad left, my main goal was to make sure that no one had to feel the same loss that I did. So I did the only thing that I could think of doing. I spent every day walking around campus, watching for the people that looked to be in the most pain. Looking for people who always walked on the outside of the group. And when I found those people, I would slowly make an approach, starting off small. By the time a couple months had passed since my dad left, I had gained the trust of many of the younger kids. I was still working on the older ones, but I felt more at home with the kids that were younger then me. They started coming to me, when the needed advice. First it was a small things. They needed help with homework, or they got into a fight with their friends. I was always able to smooth it over, becoming the go to guy for anyone who needed it. But my helpfulness didn't just stop there. I would spend my lunch time helping out kids with their homework. The only reason that I was able to do that was because I had spent all my free time learning the material myself.

 I would start my lunch period standing in line, then go around the lunch room, spotting the people who either didn't pack a lunch for today, or going to the people who didn't get a lunch because they ran out. Between helping with homework, and taking care of the unlucky ones, the days started melding. After awhile I noticed that I couldn't tell one day from the other. I couldn't remember if it was Monday or Thursday. But I was brought back into reality when I saw my best friend Kissa walking down the hallway. She must have been going to the bathroom or something. But what she didn't notice was that she was being followed. 3 of the bigger guys that went to our school were trying to sneak towards her. For what reasons I don't know. I watch as she opens her locker, and that's when the guys make their move. I watch in horror as they surround her. They pin her against the lockers, but before they can do anything, she knees the one in front of her in the groin. I grab the first thing that I can see, a broomstick, and wait as she runs towards me, not knowing that I was here. "DUCK!" I yell, I swing the broom, narrowly missing her and smacking one of the guys in the face. The memory ends there, I'm not entirely sure as to why. But I'm taken into a splurge of memories, each one of them my deepest fears.

 I'm shown the time I had to leave my friends, how I felt like a failiure for having to leave them. I' m shown so many things that I'm scared of, that after awhile, I have to beg them to stop. "Please, stop. I can't take it anymore. Stop." I croak out. I don't know how long I was under there, but the both guys have bags under their eyes. I'm drenched in sweat, shivering in fright from head to toe.

"It's about time. Took days for you to finally crack." The bigger guys sighs. "Someone go tell the boss that he's ready for the next step. Before his walls come back up." He says, no one moves at first, but after about 3 minutes, they all leave. I wait in fear, as the time slowly passes. It feels like an eternity until the door finally opens.

"Finally. Took you guys long enough to finally break him. It was a much longer wait then it was to break the other 2. But that doesn't matter. The fact that it took him longer means that he holds more promise. Take him into the next room, and prep him for the mind control. I want this one to be perfect. There can't be any room for error with this one. He put up a great fight, but he's physically, mentally and emotionally. He won't be able to withstand what we have next. Take him into the room." The last thing that I see is him, standing at the machine, looking at me with a look that I can only describe as proud. I guess he finally got the test subject that he's been waiting for. I don't even want to begin to know what he was going to do to me.