Edit | #Wattys2016

Twenty Four (XAVIER'S POV)

Master stands above me, a control in his hand. I feel like cursing at him, but Avelyn is in the room, and she's much too young to learn those words.

"Xavier, you know that one day you will take over Edit," he reprimands, and an electric shock runs through my body. My eyes screw close and a gasp escapes my lips.

Master starts to hurl insults at me, while Avelyn stands pressed against a wall, her face white.

"No." I have to keep repeating it, or else I'll believe him. I'll have to believe him, and I'll be completely broken and shattered and useless and messed up.

I know that I'm just a tool. I know that once I've completed whatever he wants me too I'll explode into a million tiny pieces, because of the freaking tracker that has about a trillion functions to control me.

Heck, I hate them. Him, in fact.

Yeah, I know that I'm not going to last long on this planet any more, and I should be thankful, but if they're going to hurt Avelyn...she doesn't deserve to be treated like that.

I writhe and choke and sob, and the pain is so intense, so terrible that it sears through my bones and reverberates in my skull, like a million, a thousand flames licking at me.

Stop. Stop. Stop! I start to scream and shout and cry freely now, my heart breaking, my head splitting, and—

Everything vanishes. The pain. The hurt. I shoot to my feet, Dakota pressed against my side. I can see the stains that the tears have left on her face, and quickly I squeeze her hand and stare at her. She responds immediately, tilting her chin a little higher, squeezing my hand shakily. Her gaze flickers back to Amber—Amber, who I should've known from the first time I saw her.

I should've known. When I did find out, it was too late.

I know that he's done it, pressed that stupid chip into her head, agitating her. For the past few years she's been living in a somewhat peaceful but eventful community, and although he tries to manipulate the situations around her, killing her parents, making her lose her sense of touch...she has Chance, and has not even come close to relapsing once.

And so now she's no longer Amber. What the Edit headquarters and Therapy or in other words, Rehabilitation, will see, is that their long-lost Avelyn has returned.

And she's stronger than ever, like he had always wanted her to be. She's been through setbacks and a whole whirlwind, so it's more than obvious that he can draw on her emotions and make her this...monster.

"Dakota," I murmur to her, and, her emotions still raw, she presses closer to me in response. "Remember what I told you. You can be that person who makes the difference. Hear me?"

"You're not going to die." Her lips barely move, but I still hear her. I press a kiss to her head, and say nothing.

Somehow the thought of dying suddenly sounds intimidating. Maybe it's because now I have Dakota, or because I know of the consequences of my death—chaos. I picture Amber—Avelyn—getting dragged back to Edit without Chance, and going through the torture they put me through.

I imagine the tracker being stamped onto her, labeling her as the heir to Edit. I imagine her having Dakota as a younger sister. I imagine a world where everything is smoke and mirrors, ashes and dust.

And everyone knows I'm not going to let that happen.

"Xavier." Amber—Avelyn—says formally, nodding—or rather, just a slight drop of her chin. The stupid man that just manipulated me into thinking Dakota and everyone I loved didn't exist continues to stand there with a stupid smirk on his face.