I wake up in a blank room, no surprise there. Wiggling my fingers, I notice that metal cuffs hold down my hands, as are my ankles. I snort. It seems I’m a huge problem around here. I glance around for Lark, to see if this amuses him, too.
But Lark isn’t here. My eyes fly around the room, to no avail. Lark isn’t to be seen. Where is he?
Oh, right. The scene in the hallway.
His last words come back to ring in my ears. “I love you.” He’s said it before, but I’ve never believed it as much as I do now. I need to find him, to tell him that.
“Your friend is being questioned separately,” A cool voice informs me. “Should you behave accordingly and answer truthfully, you will be permitted to see him again.” So now we’ve resorted to blackmail. That’s just peachy. Now I’ve got to keep calm.
“I swear, I will tell you everything. Can we start, please?”
“I assumed as much. Yes, we will begin. Where is the rebel base?”
Inwardly, I groan. “Listen closely. There is no rebel base. I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about. The Palette was a move out of desperation. Lark and I met at a warehouse, hiding our precious art supplies. We started a club, and then other people joined, and we grew in size. There was no outside instruction, nobody giving us orders. It was just two kids, scared and alone. Us against the world.”
“I see.” The man taps a few buttons on his tablet. “Now, who were the members of your ‘club’?”
“It was just we, some friends from school, and a few family members.” My voice breaks on the last few words.
“When would you like to tell the truth, then? The longer you lie, the longer you are going to be kept away from your friend.”
This man is really starting to irk me. “I am telling the truth!”
He sighs, and gestures to a person next to him. A really macho looking guy, veins popping out of his arms, very muscle-y. How did I not notice him before? He’s kind of—
Thwack.
My mind is reeling. He just slapped me. Hard. The kind of way that makes your face sting and your mind grow fuzzy, badly enough that your brain threatens to go dark. I want to scream at them, to curse and try to break free.
But.
If I do that, they won’t let me see Lark. So I manage to keep my composure.
“I will ask you again, where is the rebel base?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I reply through gritted teeth, bracing myself for another slap. But it doesn’t come.
No, I hear the doors lock with a click, and the buff guy unlocks my bindings, shaking his head all the while. He forcibly hauls me to my feet, drags the chair away, and then comes to stand by me again, glaring down menacingly.
“Care to change your answer?”
I stare him dead in the eyes. “No.”
YOU ARE READING
The Artists' Palette
Fantasi"The earth without art is just 'eh'" Echoe Springs lives in a dystopia where the Administrators (opposers of creativity and art) rule with an iron fist. In an act...
