All of a sudden, I snap awake, hoping that I hadn't betrayed myself in my slumber. Immediately noting the guard in front of me, I compose myself with lightning speed, showing no trace of fear. A smile creeps lazily across my face as I look him in the eye.
I force the thought, I despise you. I would kill you if my hands were free, and let my stare transmit the message. He looks away hurriedly, even as deeper inside my head, I scream, No! I don't like killing!
The soldier-guard produces additional iron cuffs from the bag he'd set beside his feet. He sets about engaging the halves in the slots at my calves, thighs, waist, and biceps, where they would restrain me further than the standard wrist-and-ankle ones. I'd always wondered at those slots. He hesitates over the ones at my head and neck. I tilt my head, silently daring him to try. The two halves linger above either side of my skull.
I suddenly jerk my chin forward, causing him to scream and jump away. I laugh. With a start, I realize that I hadn't been forcing it. I slam mental walls down inside my head. I will not let myself become everything I hate.
I slowly lean my head back to rest gently on the slab, smirking at the guard as he approaches warily. Go ahead, my eyes challenge. It's not like you can hold me anyway. His large, rough hands shake like a child as he clasps the halves into place and leaps back. I smile at him pleasantly as he attaches the neck ring. He closes and locks each cuff with an oldways metal rod instead of programming them to the button beside me. Then he snatches up his now-empty bag and practically sprints away.
I wait for whatever is coming. There is no chance they'd increase my bonds without reason. Outwardly, my face retains the same crazy smile. Inside, I am roiling. My pulse beats heavily against the metal girding my throat. I'd begun to lose myself in the role. If I did... Well, I shudder to think what they could make me do to my comrades in the Rebellion.
I am afraid to play my part too well, because whenever I step fully into it, I lose a piece of myself and replace it with that darker side of me. I know that means I am slipping away. I have to keep one foot out, so that I can remember who I am. I have to keep one foot in to make everyone else forget.
YOU ARE READING
The Darker Side of Me
TerrorJenna Laosky was five years old when she watched her mother shot down in cold blood. Fourteen years later, she's a highly trained, intelligent fighter for justice. She also happens to a be a prisoner. Captured by the most devious commander in the Un...
