Inoperative

Chapter 2

     "Mommy? Are they going to hurt us?" I ask in the slightest, squeaky whisper.
"No dear. Of course not. We'll be okay," she whispers in return, stroking my hair.
"You promise?" I ask. I know my mom is crying. I can feel the moisture pooling in my hair. I can feel her gentle shakes as she silently sobs.
"I promise," she replies.
And then I'm being pulled into a white room and strapped to a table with metal wrist and ankle bands. Another secures my waist. They're tight and they hurt, rubbing against my skin.
"You promised, mommy!" I scream. "You promised it wouldn't hurt!"
A woman with her black hair tied in a bun walks in, tying her white apron as she looks down at me.
"Now, now, sweetheart. Don't be scared," she says as she pulls on a pair of rubber gloves. "This won't hurt a bit."
She picks up a scalpel and stabs it into my arm.

I sit up in my mess of a blanket, screaming and sweating profusely despite the cold. Just a dream. The pain in my arm is real though. I hear a groan from beside me and nearly scramble off the bed when I notice Aiden lying next to me. In my bed.
"What's wrong?" he asks in a croaky voice, turning his head to look over his shoulder at me.
"What are you doing?" I demand.
"I was sleeping but you make it difficult. You're like a tornado in bed. You should really see someone about that."
I glare at him. I glare at him for a whole minute hoping that he'll get uncomfortable and leave but he doesn't. He eventually rolls over so that he can look at me properly.
"Bad dream?" he asks innocently.
"Get out," I say sternly.
"No."
"Excuse me?" I stand up and cross my arms. It makes me feel more intimidating if I'm taller than someone during an argument. "This is my house. You can't just barge in here and sleep in my bed!"
"If I recall correctly, I didn't barge in. You let me in. Besides, I can't sleep out there. I laid down for ten minutes and had cramps. Don't even get me started on the cold."
"But this is my bed! Mine! Not yours!" I stomp my foot like a three year old. I know I'm being ridiculous but I'm too cold and tired to care.
"Shh. You have to be—"
"Shut up! Don't say that. You're not allowed to say that," I say and storm out of the room. I grab a jacket on my way out to the veranda.

"Amara?" Aiden whispers. I continue looking at the stars above. I don't want to see him. "Please say something. . ."
"Please leave me alone," I beg and then mentally slap myself for the weakness in my voice.
"I'm sorry ok. I didn't think it would upset you that much," he explains. He sits down letting his legs dangle over the edge of the veranda, reflecting my own. "What. . . What happens in your dreams?"
"You don't get to ask me questions like that." I can see him looking at me and its making me uncomfortable. I bring my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees.
"I have bad dreams. All the time actually. My brother, his name is Brendan. He was taken away from me last month. He was sent out with the last load of Inoperatives. I was there. I tried to save him but they took him. The endless nightmares make sure that I never forget it." I look up at him. I can only just see the pained expression lit up by the moon on his face but it's sincere. "I failed him."
We stay quiet after that. Neither of us is in the mood to talk. I bury my face in my knees again so that they're covering my eyes. I'm so tired that I can't even think straight but I don't feel like moving either.
A gust of icy wind sweeps my straight hair off of my shoulders, leaving my neck bare. I shiver violently from the intense cold.
Aiden must notice because he says, "You should go inside and go back to bed."
"Don't tell me how to live my life," I reply, only half joking.
I can see as I stand up one corner of his mouth twitching upward but I don't say anything.
I climb back into the warmth of my bed, moving all of my brown locks to one shoulder and curling into a little ball under the blanket. Aiden walks in behind me holding his jacket. He pulls back the only thing keeping me warm and then wraps me in his jacket on top of my own before tucking the blanket around my sides. It's a simple brown jacket, mostly torn to shreds, but it does make me a whole lot warmer. He stands back up and walks to leave the room.
"Hey," I say before he has a chance to leave. "I. . . I was being a bit. . . ridiculous before. You can't sleep out there. It's too cold."
"You trying to get me to join you in bed. Naughty girl," he says with a chuckle.
"Don't get carried away now. I plan on sleeping only."
He climbs in beside me and I offer him some of the blanket. He goes to snuggle right up beside me but I quickly stop him.
"I'm letting you sleep in here so that you don't die of hyperthermia but don't think for one second that you can touch me. In fact, the first part of you that touches me, is the first part you'll lose."
He smiles at me before rolling over and shuffling towards the other side of the bed. "Why do you hate me?"
"I don't hate you."
"So you do like me?"
"I said I didn't hate you. If you want a proclamation of love, you might want to go elsewhere. I don't hate you but I do just generally dislike you," I say.
"Why do you 'dislike' me?"
"Because you ask too many questions for one. Now can you please shut up so I can sleep?" He's getting my grumpy tone now.
I curl up tighter in my little ball and close my eyes praying for sleep. Eventually a blissful dreamless sleep comes to me and I sink into it like a rock.