The Burning Girl

Chapter 21 - A N N A

I look over at my alarm clock on my side table near my head. 5:15 am. I groan as I sit up, stretching my arms high over my head. I shake out my hands and roll my shoulders, before hopping out of bed. I walk slowly to the shower in the corner of my room, turning the temperature up high before climbing in. I take my time, working my tense muscles with my fingers, trying to loosen them out.

Lately, the drills have been getting harder and harder; more time spent swimming in the lake, more hand to hand combat, more violent assault training, you get the picture. I have done nothing but work my arse off in this place, to prove my worth, but they still haven't told me why I'm here. Why I was taken away from my mother and friends. My life.

I mull this over in my mind, coming up with different reasons. Was it because of my school? Had they recommended me? Another thing bothering me was what lie they could have come up with to explain where I had disappeared too.

My breath hitches in my throat. Had they told Ma I had died? Did she think I was dead?

Horrible scenarios flicker through my brain, of all the ways they could have said this. Of all the ways she could be reacting, coping, struggling.

"Why am I here?" I whisper to myself.

I leave the shower and grab one of the fluffy white towels that I have kept so clean and white with my bare hands. They make us wash everything here that we use. To quote Tom "This ain't no fucking hotel."

Charming.

God, I hate him. So much. If I could take all my anger and frustration out on anybody, it would be him. I'd use him as my punch bag, kicking him so hard he couldn't walk. He has been nothing but a complete arse since I've come here. Never calling me anything but Blackwell, and making snide comments about my family. He always insinuates that I'm a weak, insecure person and that I'll never survive in this world of guns and liberation.

Liberation.

Liberation.

I'm fairly certain that this so called freedom fighter group is anything but liberating. We haven't helped anyone, only stolen a USB stick from some poor sod.

I dry my hair as quick as I can, as the time is nearing to 6:00 am which means breakfast then drills in the barn. I throw my clothes on and quickly lace up my combat boots, before holstering my glock and tying my hair back. A quick knock comes at the door.

"Yeah!" I yell "Come in."

"Hey there," I hear.

"Hey Cass, how are you?" I smile at her reflection in the mirror.

"Good thanks, An. I was wondering if you would like to practise some archery with me today in our one on one? I know it's not the most practical weapon these days, but I thought it would be fun?"

"Yeah sure Cass, sounds great. I'll meet you in the barn in ten and we can talk more, ok?"

She smiles at me, nods and leaves my room.

I've learnt that Cass is around mine and Arran's age, but maybe slightly older. Yet she refuses to tell me exactly, God knows why. She has a younger brother who is in Year 10 at school. His name is Jacob and apparently they look exactly the same, or so she says. She is also one of the best fighters they have here at the training facility, so she is teaching me everything she knows.

In other words, she's pretty damn awesome.

I jog next door to Arran's room and pound noisily on the door. Things have been slightly awkward since he told me his feelings, but at least now I know that he likes me and doesn't like Claire. The door creaks open wide and I'm met with the scowling face of Arran who comes striding out and starts to walk in the direction of the barn, leaving me in the dust.