Rebellion

Confusing What Is Real

Confusing What Is Real

​"Mike.....Mike....."

​"I knew I should've killed you when I had the chance! You're just dragging us down."

​Their hands slipped and Chester screamed as he was dragged backwards out of the fight. Mike watched him go before turning and walking back to the Capitol.

​His eyes opened and he stared up at a dark ceiling. There were people all around him and he shifted uncomfortably. What did they want? He looked around and saw Mike standing there. Mike....and Dave....and all the other rebels. They were standing around him in a circle and talking before they all turned to look at him. His breaths quickened. In an instant, his hands and ankles were restrained and his body arched as electricity coursed through his body. Why would they do this to him? He'd helped them fight. He'd saved Mike's life. He gasped as the pain lessened and he fell back on the table. His eyesight blurred and the figures around him changed. He gasped as the rebels vanished. It....It had been real. It had to have been real. He had felt the pain. They had hurt him.

​"Chester, are you alright?"

​He looked up and saw a man standing there. He had no idea who he was. Well, he kind of did. He had been fighting this guy before Mike had let him be taken.

​"Who are you?"

​"I'm your father, Chester. The rebels abandoned you the second they got the chance."

​"No...they wouldn't....they said I was part of their group."

​"Well I guess they lied to you. You were lucky I was there to rescue you. That one would've killed you if I hadn't dragged you away."

​He squeezed his eyes shut and felt tears well in his eyes. Mike....wouldn't have killed him. He wouldn't. He thought that it was all in the past now. That they could move on. Flashes of memory came to him and he saw himself laying in the square while Mike stood over him with a sword. Right before he got stabbed he was dragged away. No, that couldn't be right. Was it? He remembered every second of it.

​"I....."

​"I'm sorry Chester," his father said softly, "It turns out they really didn't care about you."

​He felt the metal restraints on his wrist vanish and then his father was helping him up and putting his arm around him. He sniffled softly and felt the tears in his eyes slide down his cheeks.

​"How long have I been out?"

​"Just a couple of days. It's alright, you're going to be fine."

​He didn't have anything to say. He was led slowly out of the room and his brain was overwhelmed with images. He saw himself in many of them as Mike beat him mercilessly against the whipping post in front of the people of the city. He felt every burning pain in his arm where the word Murderer was branded onto him, never to be forgotten. He saw Dave turn his back on him as Mike tied him up. He saw the rebels attacking him and trying to take his kids from him. It had been a lie the entire time. They had just wanted him to get comfortable so they could kill him easier. They could pretend to not be able to save him. He looked away and stared down at the people below him. His father had a small army. He didn't listen to the speech. How could he have been so stupid to trust them? He took a few steps back and then ran from the room.

​"Chester?"

​He kept running. He didn't know where he was going but he just needed some space. He found a room and slid inside, shutting the door. He leaned against the door and put his head in his arms. Why was he so upset about this? Why did he ever think they could ever forgive him for what he'd been? He shut his eyes and whimpered.

​"I hope you get death!"

​"You should've been killed!"
​
​"I hate you, I'll never forgive you for what you've done."

​"You know Chester, I love seeing you suffer like this...it's great, but I want to be the reason that you scream. I want to be the reason for your pain."

​Chester whimpered as tears welled in his eyes. He could only think of one thing he could do. He had to kill Mike and the others before they killed him and his sons. That was it. There was a knock on the door but he didn't say anything.

​"Chester?"

​His eyes widened as he heard the voice. Slowly he opened the door and was faced with someone who he had seen die. This wasn't possible.

​"Chester, god you're alright. Where have you been?"

​"No....No this isn't real," Chester managed as he pushed himself away from the door, "You're dead. You're not real."

​He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and he winced.

​"If I wasn't real could I do this?"

​"Stop. This isn't real."

​"What happened to your eyes? They were so beautiful before."

​"It.....You're still drugged. It's all a drug. They drugged us, to make us kill."

​"Now you're really talking crazy, Chester."

​Chester stared at the man in front of him. He knew this wasn't real but he wanted it to be real so badly. The small part of his mind that was telling him it was fake was clouded over by his desire for it to be real.

​"Scott," he whimpered as he fell into the older man's arms, "I can't ever make the right choice. I'm trying so hard to do the right thing but I just keep fucking up."

​"Relax," Scott said quietly. He stayed like this for hours. Or maybe it wasn't hours, maybe it was just a few minutes. It felt like hours. When he blinked his eyes open, he was laying on the bed and Scott was gone. Of course he was. He had never been real....or had he? He screamed in frustration. He couldn't tell the difference anymore. What had happened and what was fake? His memories were blurred together and he couldn't decipher his own life.

​"Chester? Are you alright?"

​"No go away. You're not real," he said angrily as he turned away from the door, "You're not real. You're dead."

​"Chester, I'm not dead. Come on, we need to get you something to help."

​"I'm not going anyway with an apparition."

​He was dragged out of the bed anyway and led down a maze of hallways. He looked around but his vision was blurred together. He swallowed as he was sat down in a chair.

​"Chester, I need you to look at me."

​He looked over at whoever was talking to him and saw a man that looked to be about his age.

​"Who are you?"

​"My name is Ryan, we're going to talk just a little bit okay?"

​"I....okay."

​"You were being held prisoner at the Capitol by the rebels correct?"

​"I....," Chester squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember if he had been. He glanced down at his arm. He must've been captured at some point if they'd done this to him. "Yes."

​"Do you have anything we should know about them?"

​And it was like the words just came into his mouth. He knew exactly what to say.

​"They're killers," he said, "They'll hurt anyone to get what they want and the only way to stop them is to eliminate them. They tortured me.....hurt me...I'd done nothing wrong. I told them they could kill me if they wanted but they refused. They found it fun to see me suffer."

​"Thank you, Chester," Ryan said softly before putting a gentle hand on his arm, "Now we're going to go and get you something to make you feel a little better okay?"

​Chester nodded and got up. He followed Ryan down the halls and into another room.

​"Sit down right here, I'll be right back," he said and Chester sat down on the edge of the bed. He was so confused. He closed his eyes and tried to sort through some of the memories in his head but it was literally hurting him to go through them. So instead, he just sat quietly and hoped he would understand what it all meant eventually. The door opened and an older man walked through the door. Chester recognized him as the man who claimed to be his father.

​"Chester, how are you feeling?"

​"Sick," Chester admitted.

​"I am guessing you're still a bit in shock over what happened. You need to rest, Chester. You have to relax."

​"I can't....I can't figure things out...."

​"You don't have to. It'll all come to you eventually. You just need to relax and sleep."

​Chester felt himself get pushed down gently on the soft bed and his eyes started to drift shut. He didn't want to sleep, sleep brought nightmares. But it was too much and soon he was asleep and like he had thought, his mind came out to play. He felt every bit of torture that he'd endured back at the Capitol building and it was killing him inside. The images of the people he thought he could trust swam in his brain and mixed together, making things all the more out of whack. Everything seemed so wrong. His body shook as they approached him and he tried to escape but there was no one around. They were going to get him this time.

​"Chester, Chester!"

​His eyes opened and he found that his body was arched off the bed. He slowly relaxed. Ryan was sitting next to him.

​"Are you alright?" the man asked, "You were having a seizure. I came in to check on you and you were thrashing and shaking."

​"I....what?"

​"Are you okay?"

​Chester shook his head and tears appeared in his eyes. The man frowned but then sat down next to him on the bed.

​"No....I don't know what's wrong with me."

​He was supported by a firm arm, "The shock you're experiencing is definitely hurting you. You need to have someone around you at all times."

​"I don't want anyone near me....I can't....I..."

​"Chester, relax," Ryan said, "I know you're having a hard time about this but I can promise you that none of us here would ever want to hurt you. That's why we rescued you from the rebels before they could hurt you anymore."

​Chester took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly before nodding and burying his head into Ryan's shoulder, "I'm sorry.....I just don't know what to do. I'm so confused and I can't think straight."

​"How about we go and I'll give you a tour of the place? You can kind of learn things about this place and then maybe we can fix some of your thoughts."

​"Okay. I'd like that," Chester said and Ryan nodded before helping him up. He walked next to Ryan and had the other man support him because his body didn't seem to want to work on its own after his seizure. He sighed as he listened to Ryan explain certain things around this new place. This was supposedly his new home. He looked up at Ryan who was talking. The older man glanced down at him and gave him a small smile.

​"You like this place?"

​Chester looked around and felt the edges of his mouth turn up, "Maybe just a little."