Accepted To Kill

Chapter 8

Darkness. My life has been swallowed by the darkness. I lay alone in a large, pitch black room with a blanket wrapped around me. I have no idea what they did with my clothes. I'm not tied up this time, but locked in. I tried the door several times.

It's gotta be about two in the morning now, after all that's happened. Sleep will not come upon me, as much as my poor spirit could use it. The cold floor gives my bare skin goosebumps, making me shiver.

All I can think about is my mother, and how lucky she is to have left this heartless world. Why could it not have been me?

     My eyes are wide, yet my body is exhausted.  I dread tomorrow and what they will do to me.  Perhaps they will kill me, or maybe torture me first.  Whatever it is, I'm terrified.  I don't want to be branded.

If it's the kind of branding I'm thinking of, then I don't think I'll be able to bear it. The thought of a hot iron against my flesh makes me wish I could disappear. I can just imagine the stench of burning flesh wafting through the air.

I shudder and curl up into a tighter ball. I feel more secure this way somehow. Always have. Being smaller makes me feel less visible.

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The following morning I wake up shivering with the blanket off to the side. I grab it and wrap it around my body that's exposed to the cold. Not a single soul is to be seen or heard.

To be completely honest I don't even know if I'm still in the same room I was in when I fell asleep. Perhaps this isn't even the Hex anymore. My mind spins in confusion as the door is unbolted with a click.

My head shoots in that direction, my eyes wide and skin crawling with fear.
A man enters with a nod and a smile.

I've never seen him before.  I pull the blanket around myself tighter and he looks at me closely.  He has black eyes, lighter skin than mine, perfect white teeth, and wavy black hair.  He's young, perhaps not over 20.  His smile vanishes.

In a deep familiar voice he says angrily, "Where are your clothes?"

I look embarrassed.  He's the man I couldn't see last night when I was blindfolded.   I look down at my hands that hold the blanket close to me.

"They took them last night.." I respond shakily.

He sighs and leaves the room.  A moment later he returns with a hot branding iron.  There's letters shaped on it that glow a cruel red.  I stand up and back away.

"It's not that bad," he says reassuringly, "it's quick.  And if you refuse to be branded you refuse to be one of us...and that means death."

I swallow hard and I feel my back hit the wall.  He grabs my arm and puts the brand on my arm.  I scream in agony.  It's so hot it feels cold, then burning like fire.  I fight to get it off of me but he's got a grip on my arm that I cannot budge from.  I drop the blanket but could care less. 

    He takes it off after what seems like forever and I can smell burning.  My skin withering away from what had just kissed it.

   Searing pain radiates from my arm through my whole body.  I sink to the floor as the man watches me closely.  I look at my arm in horror and disgust.  An N and L are engraved permanently in my skin. It stands for Negro Latina.  It's the gangs mixed members of blacks and hispanics that brought about that name.  I look at the Hispanic man still standing above me.  He rolls his eyes.

   "You are weak and wimpy...worth nothing."  He pulls out his gun laughing.  "They told me you had character.  All I see is a little mamas boy."

    I look up at him fiercely.  How dare he call me that! My eyes meet his and I stand up.  A smile begins to curve on his lips as I say, "Call me what you will, but you can't judge me till you've seen what I'm capable of, and till then, keep your judgements to yourself."

"That's more like it," he says.

Inside I feel like I've died, but I know I have unfinished business concerning my father.  Until my business with my father is finished, I cannot rest in the earth.  What I will do, I'll do it for my mother.

"How are you going to prove yourself?"

"I'm gonna kill my father."