Sacred Truths

Prologue

..2013, unknown location...

Nobody was born evil.

Nobody deserves pain.

Even others who bring us pain were once someone who were wounded deeply.

Everyone deserves to be forgiven for their past sins.

Those were the words my mother used to say when I was younger. I never understood her words. But the gentleness in her voice when she uttered these words sounded so mesmerizing that I might have taken in those words without notice. Everyone told me I became a sweet, kind girl just like her, which was something I took pride in.

Now, I wondered what it was like to be kind? to be good? I couldn't remember that feeling. Hell, I didn't even remember how we got here in the first place. Eight of us were playing in a park around the neighbourhood and the next thing we knew,we were blindfolded in a truck. The roads were bumpy most of the time so I had bruises all over my body. When the truck came to a stop, still blindfolded, they grabbed us one by one and pulled us roughly towards some building. From the orders they give, most of them were American. I forgot to breathe from fear and barely managed to walk. After going some long distance, they shoved us towards the wall and cuffed our ankles and hands. Only then did they remove our blindfolds.

We were in a dungeon. It was like those we see in movies about Victorian Era. There were many people , both old and young, inside array of dungeons which seemed to stretch endlessly across the corridor and a dim green light was the only source of light. It was scary and dark but the oldest one of us, Joanna, would soothe us , that we would be fine and we would get through whatever danger together.

Days later, the people in uniforms put us into scary machines and electrocuted us. The pain was unbearable. It felt as if we were skinned alive till we were dead. The people in white coats told us it was only a few minutes but for us, it felt more like a lifetime. Some "subjects" died while being in the electrocution process. And those who were still alive after the process were deemed "Changed" , which meant success. All eight of us survived and I was grateful to be alive. But the feeling was short lived. The changed "subjects" were put into different private rooms. There was an electric bulb in the ceiling at the center of the room but the uniformed people paid no heed to lit the room. There were no windows and no chairs so I was forced to sit on the ground while being chained to the wall. The eerie silence frightened me every night and nightmares soon invaded my "normal" life. My mind felt blank, dark and it scared me. However, soon, a million thoughts kept running in my head mindlessly day by day, a company I welcomed during my stay in this cold, dark, filthy caged room. I had no idea when it was day or night. All I know is that when they came to my room, it would be around 7 or 8 p.m. They would cut me with knieves, scapels and when they had enough, they would sew my wound up with no anaesthesia. It was hell to live through this every single day.I was barely given any food.Despite the days, weeks , maybe months spent shackled in this cold dark filthy place being tortured to the point of death, hope still burned inside me that we would be saved and we would get out of this madness together.

Well, that was until now.

One of my best friends, Emerson was brought into the room I "reside" and shackled on the other side of the room, the constant beating by her torturer caused her to cough blood. Her hands and ankles bound by cuffs were bleeding, an indication of her struggling. I cried for them to stop but my words fell on deaf ears.

Just when I thought the torture was brutal, one of our torturers walked towards her with a knife,  every step determined and starved for torture, for death. Still hurting from the bruises and pain he gave, she weakly looked up towars the source of the footsteps. Realization sank in her eyes that she was going to die.Then she looked at me with sad, teary eyes and gasped my name softly. Violet.

"NO!!! Please!!! please don't do this."

"Torture me!!! Kill me instead. Just please. Not her!!"

I didn't know how much I begged and cried. I didn't even beg this much when my father attempted to kill me, when my mother lost custody of me and I was put in an orphanage.

But no one cared.

As soon as he reached her, he slashed her neck. Blood oozed from her wound and shock came over me.It was like I was in another dimension where there was no sound. As more blood gushed out,I knew there was no saving her. I could not speak, could not breathe as I took in the scene in front of me. She opened her eyes with shear strength, took in a shallow breath and looked at me one last time. Her eyes were glazed but they showed deep sadness, deep emotions that I could not comprehend. So many emotions came over me - regret, helplessness, anger, sadness, but mostly, I felt pain.

Pain of realizing that she wasn't going to be a part of my life anymore.

Pain of not knowing how to live without her.

Pain of watching her death and not being able to help her.

Pain of not knowing how to face others.

Pain of everything.

"She's dead, " the man reminded me.

And that's when tears started flowing from my eyes.