Unblinking

Never be mine

Fred stares at me. I don't know what to do. I try to avoid his eyes. His eyes won't stop circling mine.
I don't know why but I'm guilty. For what? Who is Brock? Who is he? What am I doing? For the first time, I get a memory without actually getting a memory. And I spoke it out. Instead of the red light, I got a memory without it.
My eyes don't blur like they usually do and I feel so calm. My heart doesn't beat so fast and nothing does my body do that sends chills.
But shock and desperation wraps my body, suffocating me.
I press my palm onto my mouth, wondering if it was real. If I am real.
Do I know him? Is it his real name? I think. I want to break my skull open. I want to ask it. I want to ask Fred if- Someone is talking, isn't it? I hear. Not a whisper but a murmur.
There is no one except we three of us in the whole Arena and neither of their lips are moving. I don't turn my head nor process anything too much if I may stop hearing the murmur. Wait. I can hear it now. "...over" That was all I can manage to hear before Brock disturbingly pulls Fred for a hug.
Will Criminals hug? I don't remember. The voice. It has vanished. That was all I could hear. Why are things happening to me? Why should I remember his name? Why is he here?
Still Fred's eyes won't stop glaring at mine. He doesn't even turn his neck towards Brock.
"You remember him" He says. After like an eternity of gazing. Brock looks at him calmly. Patiently. Like he doesn't bother what he is talking about. His voice casually continues, "Fred, my mum again had her files replaced and-"
I don't hear anything. From there. My ears are deafening with the completed murmurs.
"You were a baby when you saw him" I look at Fred, pleading with my eyes to stop.
Brock stops to listen to us.
"I‐"
"You were five"
I glance at Brock. I don't think I ever saw him. But it feels like I saw him last week. The pressure is rising. I can't hide the feeling of guilt.
The voice gets me now, "Good girl..." Then... then... Why does it have to fade? Brock's voice re-emerges.
"...quite a great time, we had. Dressed in all yellow for a school competition, weren't you?"
Yellow clothes. Yellow clothes. Light. Red light. Red clothes. Yellow light. No, red. The yellow clothes with red. Light? No light. Sun was gleaming. The clothes were being scratched from my body. Red patches. Red liquid. No. Flowing all over my body.
I get up. From wherever I was sitting and I find myself on a piece. Of what? I don't know. Yellow reflection in that piece is all I could see. I look at myself. At somewhere I don't know. I'm, smiling. My teeth, full of sick blood. Blood is fully covering my body. Slowly, inch by inch.
The clothes. Now damp with blood. A sharp edged piece of something is opening it. And one second I was standing and the next I was lying in a soft place. A bed. I could feel myself naked. I touched my bare chest and-
"Are you alright Sara?" I open my eyes not aware it was closed before.
Brock is frowning. Brock is all I can see.
"Sara, is everything-" I can't hear the rest. His eyes are gleaming brown and his black hair, slick with sweat is something that I could never forget.
I don't look at Fred. I don't wanna look at him. Suddenly, Brock looks so similar to Dennis. I know him and I don't. I remember him and I don't. Five years. Yellow dress. Blood. Danger. Brock.
"Brock, you..." I can feel the bile rising in my stomach and my throat intensifies as I- Holy crap.
A second passes. Don't open your eyes. And two. Don't look at it. And five. I slowly take my eyes from the mess I made on his shirt to his eyes again. To Fred's.
He looks at me as if I'm an alien. He gapes at Brock's shirt which he is unbuttoning now. I just now met this man after like 11 years, if Fred's words were true and I puked on him.
A whole hour has passed since I've been escorted into our tent and I still can't get my mind over that.
Fred is my brother and he is. I can't stop feeling protected with his presence beside me. Secure. Like I can do almost anything from flying to turning invisible with him beside me.
I try to sleep for the twelfth time this midnight. I look over at him walking across me and I immediately close my eyes. Just not to have an embarrassing sorry.
"I know you aren't asleep Sara. Stop pretending to"
"I'm sorry" I press the edge of the mattress with my palm as I try to sit straight. I'm not sick. I'm just tired.
"Don't be" He touches my temple to check the temperature and squeezes my hand. "You are not sick" Did he just read my mind?
"Who is Brock?" This is the first time for me to mention him after the mortifying encounter with him.
Fred doesn't change his calm face. A patient and a disturbingly soothing face. He has pressed his lips tighter.
"I have the right to at least know" This doesn't work. He won't tell me.
"But I don't have the right to kill you"
•••
It is half past 2 and I put on my game clothes. For no reason anyway. Still no sudden memory of Brock or the yellow clothes or blood or the now-sleeping Fred.
I can hear him mutter something in sleep. In tension. Maybe sorrow. Or misery. Maybe for something I can't know. He is always patient with me. Treats me like I was born yesterday. Wait, when was I born? It doesn't matter right now, does it?
I suddenly feel so much away from Fred. So much. Like he doesn't belong here. Anywhere in my life.
The desert is deserted. There is almost no one out of their tents if it weren't for me standing out. The tents are all closed. I look back at Fred. He's still asleep. Guess, I'd take a walk out. Just for a few paces. To get fresh air.
I'm in the Arena, I'm a player, I should be strong. I don't think much. My mind is as usual blank but this time with so much of courage. Will there be monsters out there? Will there be someone to hurt me? To arrest me? Is it dangerous? I don't mind.
I step out.
Each step I take is something new I haven't done from the moment I woke up and it is super exciting. I'm feeling like loosening up. From the hold of the unknown thing called dependence. I clutch the torch tightly. Even though it is still dark and I don't have a backup, like an extra torch or battery, this feels good. I'm suddenly smiling.
I didn't realize I've walked so long until I pause to catch some breath. Oh My Goodness. Walking is so hard than it seems to be.
That area has been divided into three sectors. One with almost 50 to 55 tents. I randomly start walking towards the left.
A tent seems to be open. Oh- Someone is standing outside it with a bag, or... a lump in their hands. Is it- It can't be. My legs are desperately moving faster. I'm running. Ouch. Oh. Great heavens. My hands are sandy and I don't feel it, my boots are covered with sand and I don't realize it and my arm, which hit the ground first is bleeding.
My pulse is pounding too hard that I clutch my chest willing it to stop. I rise up anyway. I cover my eyes in disbelief. In horror. I didn't believe it before though. The girl standing out of the tents with the number 289 is all I could sense right now. I grab the torch and shake it. I beat it against my palm. Urghh... Why does it have to go off at the right moment? Guess, I won't be needing it. She has a lamp hung over the entrance of the tent. Relief comes flooding through my nerves for no reason.
I don't know her name.
I didn't know her number until now.
I don't know what she's committed.
Still I feel some connection.
Just because she spent a couple of days in the room together, doesn't mean I'm related to her, does it? But my legs won't hide the excitement.
They carry me as fast as they could towards her.
She doesn't run into her tent. She doesn't make a face at me. She doesn't even show anything on her face except a smile.
It feels strange. The smile. 'I expected you' smile. Still I want to see her. To talk to her.
"Hey" I cough, in between my awkward huffs and puffs.
She nods. She recognizes. Or she knows already. "Sara Abbott?"
I nod. I try to read her tag which is hidden beneath her braid which looks perfect. I think back at the face and body she had when she was there. I try to look at her now scalp for blood, but it is clean. She looks gleaming. The games should've provided her the resources.
I look into her face and find her already staring at me. Smile vanished. She flips back her braid, knowing I was trying to read it. "Ashley López." Spain. I know it is a Spanish name. I know. I remember. I know her. Why do I know her? Why? Why? I know her. I perfectly know who she is. I don't strain too hard. I don't go too hard. She, getting damp in the rain. In our backyard.
"You got lost when I was 14. Playing games in my backyard during my birthday party. You are Ansley López's sister. 5 years younger. I-"
The image of her flies across my eyes. She was nine at that time. A nine year old Criminal. A dangerous Criminal. The number one.
I can clearly see Fred clutching her throat. Just him and her. Nothing more. I blink and gone.
Is it really me? My face sweats once and-
Oh. Oh. Ouch. Holy crappppp.
Get off me. Ashley. "GET OFF ME" Please. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No . I'm- She is clinging onto my back, her nails digging into my throat. My throat. I can't scream. My eyes are blurring now and I fight back the tears pushing out of my eyelids. My head is screaming. It is burning. I push her back. I try to bite into her hands. I want to tear her flesh out of my body. I kick back her groin. Ouch. She loosens a little bit. My God. I throw her. I push her. My neck is bleeding. I have too little air left. I punch her face. My arms stop working. What is she doing? I don't expect it. I didn't think of it. She is... Gosh. My... She twirls her legs over my hips. The only way is... I fall down on my back, her force on my throat is sending sharp twinges of pain down my spine. My legs. My throat. My eyes. I want to run. I want to escape. But everything seems normal to me. My ears are deafening with the bell and my breath is getting smaller for each point inside my throat. Her breath near my ears is colder than the desert and I realize she's been speaking to me. Breathing words I can't hear. My eyes are blurring heavier now. An attempt to remove her hands makes it go deeper. Something is suddenly in my palm and I try to pierce the something sharp onto her thighs. The more deeper her nails go, the more deeper I go into her thighs. Die. I want to die right now.
I can't see her but I feel her breath beside my ear.
"Your brother was mine once and now forever."

To be continued...