Porcelain

Always Aim For the Crotch

6 months into my "stay", Angel had dragged me into the basement without explanation.

James had cuffed me to a chair. He took my blood, prodded me with needles, probed me, asked several questions. He must've been pleased with the results; that night, I was allowed to choose everyone's dinner. If you're wondering, I chose Kraft Mac & Cheese because that stuff is 'last day' food.

The next day, he made me stand in the testing lab. He had me block blows delivered from him, taught me how to hit back, defend, attack. He taught me much more than I had thought I had known.

For the next two months, I was taught a variety of skills. Eventually, he brought in weapons- daggers, throwing knives, guns, etc. I didn't object or question his tutoring. I simply embraced it.

I'd learned that James did not like guns; kills were "too easy" with guns. Even so, he taught me how to use one "just in case". He forced me to practice, fighting Angel or him until I made them bleed, or until I was so tired I couldn't see. Many more months passed, and James dragged another girl into the lab.

He ordered me to fight her. She was my age, shaking with so much fear, I didn't second guess my actions. Automatically, I gave her a soft blow to her temple, knocking her out. James had begun to call me 01. Not because I ruled or anything, (although I did and still do), but because of something I had realized only halfway into my training: I was being trained to kill. Who? I wasn't sure. I was branded 01 because I was his first successful student.

I don't know when I'd decided to escape, but it was like I had forged a plan in my mind. All I had to do was wait. The day before I escaped, I had asked Angel of her relationship to James. She had only revealed that she owed him her life. Nothing more was ever said, and so we silently agreed that we would escape together.

That day, James had left to work on something important. I was given the freedom to train however I wanted, Angel watching (of course). So, I practiced on projectiles. Specifically, throwing knives. I loved the feel of the hilt in my hands. It was such a graceful way to kill someone, and James had turned me into a graceful, lithe girl.

Angel was suggesting that I run through a scenario when I heard James' voice from the hallway. He sounded angry. He stomped in, holding his mask to his face. A boy of maybe 13 or so followed him, gesturing widely. I'd never seen the boy before, and I had gotten to know many of James' prisoners. I knew he didn't kidnap boys.

The boy had dark hair and dark eyes. I hadn't remembered nearly enough about him to conjure a clear memory of him.

The boy was frowning, hissing at James furiously. James, in a foul mood, was too distracted by the boy to realize that he had left the door open. Seizing the opportunity, I flew the knife I was holding at James' crotch. I ran out, pulling Angel along with me. I locked the door, and peering into the window, I saw James on the floor, howling in pain, and that boy, mouth agape in shock.

"Come on!" Angel took my wrist and we ran. She led me to the lobby, and set off the security alarm. I found a cell phone in a drawer, and immediately dialed 911. I only told them who I was and where I thought I was, and then I dropped the phone on the floor. I grabbed a sharp letter opener from the desk, and Angel and I tried to find our way outside. She ran ahead, turning a corner swiftly.

Before I could get anywhere, however, a large body pinned me to the ground. James groaned, as he landed uncomfortably on me. He was bleeding through his pants, like a girl on her period. (No need to thank me for the visual.) He tried to choke me, and I struggled. I kicked him in his bleeding crotch, and he fell to the floor, letting me go. He screamed in pain, and I fought to balance myself.

"You...", he hissed. "You would injure your master? I created you!"

"You don't give your victims the tools to defeat you, idiot.", I replied, my attitude returning to its former glory.

I walked away from him, gripping the letter opener hidden in my sleeve. I was too tired of my captivity, enough to forget that I was dealing with a lunatic.

I heard the shot too late. However, I didn't feel the bullet. All I felt was a body slumping to the ground behind me. In horror, I realized that James had tried to shoot me while my back was turned, and Angel had saved me.

"Angel!" In perfect unison, James and I both cried her name in horror. James seethed at me, but I was too focused on Angel's form.

"You tried to shoot me...", I whispered. "You don't shoot. Why-?"

"This is your fault! If you had just obeyed me...you killed my Angel!" His voice broke for a moment, and I felt sympathy for him. And then he raised the gun to aim at my head.

"James..." Angel stirred, coughing up blood. I twitched towards her, but James spat at my movement. "James..."

He crawled closer to her. "Angel...oh, Angel..." I was taken aback by the raw care in his eyes at the sight of her broken form.

"I owed you my life." She took the gun from him and slid it across the floor to me. She shuddered. "The debt has been paid."

I easily disarmed the gun, throwing the ammo on the opposite end of the hall.

"Get out." I looked at James, and the fury and loss in his eyes terrified me.

I hesitated. "But, Angel-"

"This is your fault!", he roared. Deep in my soul, I knew he was not wrong. But I was too shaken to think on his words. "Leave before I kill you."

I saw him cradle Angel in his arms, and I ran as quickly as I could, blindly finding my way outside.

By the time the police had crossed paths with me, I was unknowingly sobbing. Someone recognized me as the Chief's daughter, and called for backup. Before I blacked out, I pointed in the hotel's direction, and whispered, "Angel."

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Thanks for reading!

~Amira.