Polar Opposites

Matty

I wake up as the sun breaks through my curtains. Mornings have always excited me. A fresh start, and a fresh breath of air. It sounds stupid for someone like me to say, but when I hear the wood pigeons calling in the trees and the low hum of the bees as they start to pollinate, the world doesn't feel quite so crushing. But of course, minutes later, I always come back to reality.

I'm not looking forward to seeing Lana again. I don't know why my Dad thinks I'm some sort of babysitter. In all honesty, I would rather work in a zoo.

I slip out of my pyjamas and step into the shower that branches off of my room. I turn the dial onto the coldest setting and stand in the icy torrent for a minute. After I am officially woken up, I switch to a warmer setting and begin to wash myself. My skin tingles under the now warm water, the scrapes and scratches stinging as they're plunged into the heat.

When I'm dressed, I go downstairs and get my gun. I slot it into my belt, but make sure it's still visible. Just to let people know not to mess with me. Then, I clump down to the cellar door and open it up. It stinks of urine and vomit, and my nose wrinkles at the acidity.

Lana's lying on the floor, her forehead a striking pale compared to the deathly white of her skin. Her clothes are soiled, and reek with suffering. I stop myself from feeling anything, and keep the steel case that's around my heart firmly shut.

I yank open the bars that separate us, and kick her on the small of her back to wake her up. She winces and sits up slowly. She's trying to hide her fear, facing me square on, her chin jutting out in defiance; but her hands tremble behind her back. Her eyes look at me coldly, her pupils as small as pinpricks. She's trying to make me feel scared, and yet we both know that she's much closer to death than I. I have to remind myself who she is, and what she has done, and my steel cage tightens ever so slightly.

'I'm going to unbind your hands.' I say, 'You're going to stand up, and you're not going to move.'

I pause and place my hand on the gun to make sure she sees it.

'Understand?'

She says nothing, but we both know that with one wrong move she'll have a bullet through her back. I very slowly remove the key to her chains from my pocket and twist it into the keyhole. The manacles release her wrists with a groan, revealing the chapped, bloody wrists beneath. She stumbles to her feet, but is wise enough not to run. She's shorter than I had imagined, and her back is hunched over with bad posture, as if she's trying to disappear inside of herself.

'I'm going to open the bars now.' I say, as if I'm negotiating with a terrorist. 'You go up the stairs, and the others will be waiting for you.' I pull the bars open and watch as she creeps up the stairs.

I had already radioed the boys to be waiting at the top, so there is no way that she can escape.

I follow her and slam the door behind me as I reach the top. Robin and Joe have her pinned between them, her arms firmly pressed against her sides. Our strange procession begins its journey.

Once we reach the pit Robin and Joe let go of her arms. She seems shocked, as if expecting to be led to her execution. I move to stand next to her, my gun pointed at her head.

Robin disappears into the pit and emerges a second later with an older man, wearing the same uniform as Lana, that signifies the chief's special task force. I study Lana's face as the man comes into view. Her eyes widen and her breath catches as she sees him but she manages to stay silent. Joe ties the man to the stump of wood in the ground and binds and gags him.

I turn Lana towards me and place the gun in her hands. She jumps at the cold touch of the metal and looks at me questioningly.

'Shoot him.' I say bluntly. 'It you want our trust, if you want to stay alive, then shoot him.'

She turns even paler and I can almost see the cogs whirring in her head.

'I'm wearing a bulletproof vest,' I add, 'So if you try and fight your way out here then you will do absolutely no damage.'

She shakes her head and drops the gun to the floor.

'No.'

'Not an option.' I snarl, and place the gun back into her hands. 'Shoot him or we'll shoot you.'

Tears begin to leak out of her eyes and trickle down the bridge of her nose. First mistake - showing her weakness.

'Shoot him.'

The tears stream now and her chest shakes with each inhale. She looks at me pleadingly but I block all empathy from entering my brain. I return her gaze with pure hatred.

'Shoot him.'

Her arms tremble as she lifts them up to aim. She tries to look away, but I force her head back towards the centre. Her fingers tighten around the trigger but she still can't press it. She can't stop her feelings which is why she won't win.

I sigh, and before she can stop me I place my hand over hers and squeeze tightly. The shot resounds across the forest, and Lana crumples to the floor. She sobs into the cracked earth, her screams ricocheting off the branches of the trees around her, as her body shakes with pain and anguish. Her pain feels like needles in my brain.

She looks up at me.

'You're a monster!' she screams.

Oh but don't I know it.