New Rain

VII.

//SEVEN//

Suddenly Officials are pouring into the room, or at least it seems like it – there's probably only about three of them, but my eyes aren't really watching to notice. My subconscious mind takes note of the things around me but my head is elsewhere, thinking of other things – things like wether dying will hurt or wether Hunter will turn up at the last second.

Two Officials grab my arms and their touch jolts me back to myself. I realise that if I don't want to die, then I can't just let them drag me in like a rag doll, like I'm already just a piece of acid resistant material. So I fight - I struggle against their hold on each of my arms and kick at them, throwing everything into it. Of course, it's useless – they are, and forever will be, stronger than me – and they tighten their grip on my arms, making me wince as ribbons of pain thread up into my shoulders. To them, I am a ragdoll. I am weak and small and hopeless.

Before I know it, I'm being dragged out of the room and I don't bother looking back at the chandelier, the floor to ceiling mirrors, the desk in the corner, the balcony. All of it means nothing and is stupid. Do they think putting me in a nice room before I die is gonna make what they're doing any better? Any more civil or humane?

I'm out in the hallway, still struggling as they drag me down the white-walled corridors. I think, Hunter must have been saying goodbye. He isn’t coming. And then, I hope David got out. For a few moments, I glare at Darren's back, wishing to tackle him to the ground and release all of my anger – my anger at Hunter for leaving me, my anger at the Government for thinking this is the right thing to do, my anger at him for treating me like an inconvenience and for punching Hunter – on him, punching in his face until it's swollen and bleeding.

At one point, as they're tugging me into the elevator, I break away and for a split second, I'm free and in full control of my body before someone grabs me and forces me to my knees. I struggle some more, managing to rip a hand out of an Official's grasp and throw a pathetic punch at one of them. I barely graze their cheek and the man I aimed for hits back, punching me in the face. I feel a blast of heat as his fist connects with my nose and then pain – bright dazzling pain that has me temporarily blinded. I'm almost positive that my nose is bleeding, if not broken, as they pull me the last few feet into the lift.

The doors close behind us and it glides silently upward, moving swiftly and calmly, ignorant of the things going on in its interior. When the doors open again, I'm blinded by a combination of harsh light and white floors, wall and ceiling. The light bounces off the white and straight into my eyes. My eyes adjust quickly, but my sight is blurry and I realise I'm crying, the tears flowing non-stop down my cheeks. I blink a few times, trying my best to hold them back and keep my head down. I won't have Darren or Steven or any of the Officials see them. I won't give them the satisfaction.

We turn down hallway after hallway and I struggle the entire way, desperate to get away even though it's no use. Eventually, we come to a heavy looking metal door marked with the number 112 and I start to panic, knowing that this will be the last door I ever walk through – that when I go in, I won't come out. I scream at them to let me go, shouting everything that comes to my mind. I tell them that they have the wrong person, that I'm not an Immune, that I even got burned in third grade when it rained at school, even though I didn't – it was a close call, but the rain didn’t hit me, or it did and I just didn’t notice. I tell them how horrible they are, listing off insults and spitting at their feet as they finally get the door open.

My heart drops when I see what waits for me inside: metals walls; a large chair in the centre of the room, fabric restrains flopping down at its side; two mechanical arms, like giant claws waiting to strangle me, extending out either side of the chair with syringes pointed at the head rest; a large panel on the wall filled with buttons and dials and screens; a red leaver at the side of the room reading For emergencies only; and security cameras – one facing the chair and one behind it.