Labeled (A The Selection Fanfiction)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I shiver as the shackles that bind my hands together bang against each other with a cold sound, one that I should be used to by now. The clacking sound echoes in the large columned hallway in which we walk.

My gown, torn, tattered, and dirty where it touches the floor, brushes against the scrapes on my feet as I walk forward, gingerly putting weight on my feet.

The four rebels that surround me ordered me to be silent and not make any move towards escaping, not that I would dream of it anyways. The floor beneath me is smooth stone, and every time I trip my feet slap the floor louder than when I walk normally. The multitude of people that must belong to this rebel organization is incredible. Knowing that they have dispersed four people to me, they must have done the same to the other fourteen Selected.

Being able to have sixty people watching over your prisoners at any given time is impressive, and that's not counting the rebels that line the walls near windows and doors.

The building we are in must have been magnificent in its time. Behind the dust and worn out surfaces, you can see the grandeur that still manages to awe me.

I'm cold from spending the night locked up in an isolated room, and I think I have a cough.

The rebels to my left and in front of me turn to each other and point to a room. These doors aren't cracked, and haven't fallen down.

I stare at the doors as they are opened by the rebel in front of me. The hallway is clear to my right, but I know if I run they will catch me faster than I can scream anything.

Whatever they took us here for is behind those doors. I breathe deeply, wanting appear confident for whoever is in there.

What they do won't affect me. I am Clarissa Dossen, and I can face anyone and come out of it fine.

I trick myself into thinking I'm safe, that this is just a test, something temporary. I have to do my best, or I might fail it.

I just don't let myself know that failing might mean losing my life.

Breathe in, breath out. I feel my control slipping, and I fight to remain calm.

I look down at the floor and bend my knees. I feel safer, more relaxed.

"Get up." The rebel behind me shakes his dirty blonde head as he looks at me. It's like he's trying to tell me, you have no hope.

I can only wish that the rebel leader, I assume I will be meeting, won't harm anyone but me. I'm Alexander's favorite, that much I know, but I don't know that they know that.

I can hold it against them, and tell them to leave everyone else alone. I can offer up my parents money, everything we have if I, and all the other girls, get out of here safely.

I mentally prepare myself for a quick argument, one that will end with us getting out of here.

The rebel comes back out, chest puffed as if sent to do an important task. "She's waiting for you, Lady Clarissa. Get in." He sneers at me, as if I am worth nothing but the dirt on his shoe.

I hold my head up high, shoulders back, and take a deep breath. It'll be fine.

Then it hits me. She? I always thought the rebel leader would be a he.

As I walk into the room proudly, I imagine what she will be like. Tall, probably, strong, smart, aggressive?

I can deal with this. I try to boost my confidence one last time, and then I look up.

I gasp. "What are you doing here?" I am so surprised I almost fell over. "Mother? Did they kidnap you?" My Mother, is sitting, rather comfortably it seems, in a chair behind a large desk, with papers and maps spread out before her.

She can't be...my Mother...Arielle Dossen, head of the...the...rebels?

She glares at me with a smug look on her face, one I am accustomed to. I try to seem unfazed at her presence. I look at the rebels surrounding us, and they look at her with respect, even reverence.

My Mother, who supports everything the King does, always tries to form more connections with the Palace- oh. Connections and trust she could use against him.

She knows so much, can destroy so much- I cringe inwardly, thinking about the things she can do with the money and fame that could get her so many more followers.

But what is her reason? Why would my rich and famous, attention-loving, suck-up to the Royals Mother want with a dirty, scary, group of rebels that takes work?

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts as I wait for her response.

"My dear, dear, Clarissa! I hope your arrangements weren't too...common for your tastes?"

"They were just fine, thank you." I look at her with confidence and nonchalance, showing her that this time, she won't push me around.

But suddenly, I can't grasp any arguments and persuasive thoughts that I have prepared.

"Good. I see you have met Dante." She smiles at me, but there is something behind it. With a wave of her hand, the Italian rebel that danced with and then kidnapped me appears by her side. "Dante, darling, how are you?" She kisses him lightly on the lips.

Even though I know my parents don't love each other as much as Snow White and Prince Charming, I didn't think my Mother would go this far.

She must be doing this just to irritate me, so I ignore the pang of betrayal, and put on a face that says what is the purpose of this?

"Thank you, my leader. What I feel doesn't matter. I live to serve you." He looks up from her, and turns to me. He smirks, and I raise an eyebrow in return.

My Mother, the leader of the rebels.

Though, it seems more like: My Mother, accomplishing her lifelong dream and having an army of people willing to trade their life for hers.

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