Black And White [DONE]

Savage

Apparently, some of the men from the mafia have been caught and our sector is in charge of getting them back, despite the fact we are the newest group and have all been working together less than any other group except for J sector, but J sector can never get their shit together anyway.

So, here we are, crossing into enemy territory. Lucky for me, I feel that I have a chance today. I could be shot down so quickly, so effortlessly that my brain fills with joy.

"Do me a favor, kiddo; don't let the bad guys win. It's your turn to be the hero."

I can finally be the hero today. A round of bullets are exchanged as soon as we walk inside the building. Everyone his behind the walls except for me. I walk straight out to meet them. I can't tell if any of the bullets are even hitting me because I can't feel anything. I walk right up to one of the men from the opposing mafia. "Shoot me. Shoot me down. Please."

His eyes fill with terror as I stand directly in front of his gun. He is weak and doesn't shoot. I kick the gun out of his hand a destroy it accidentally on the floor.

The other members of my sector begin making progress in walking forward and I go up to each of the people shooting and rip the gun out of their hands. I put the last one up too my head and feel the trigger. It would be so easy. But everyone would know it was suicide.

"If you kill yourself, we'll tell the boss and you'll throw away more lives of your friends."

"I don't have any friends!"

"What about Eddie?"

My heart drops. They wouldn't dare. I look to find Eddie, who looks like his entire world has been torn apart. God, I am awful. I throw the gun down and keep walking. God, I can't do anything right, can I?

Eddie makes a face like he has been shot, though he has no visible wounds on him. I am so cruel to him. I don't mean to be, but I don't know how to make it okay. I think that deep down, I know that I've fucked up beyond what is able to be mended.

I let this new guilt where a fresh spot in my mind. It hurts to have a new wound that no one can see, but I'm sure that Eddie feels bad, too. He is the only one to be kind to me, yet I hurt him. Why do I hurt everything I love? I ruin everything that my hands touch! I am a mistake. I can't be friends with him anymore. I can't let him hurt like this.

I walk out of the room and into the next room that needs to be cleared and repeat the procedure, this time without the final step of putting the gun up to my head. We do the same thing, room after room, each of them needing to be cleared until we find the captured group.

After probably about ten rooms, we find the room. I break the door in only to be shot immediately. It didn't hurt bad enough for me to stop or even slow down. This group of people don't seem to hold back as the other groups did; luckily, our sector didn't hold back, either. Two of the five guards in the room are shot before I can even get to them.

As I get around to the last guard, he shoots bullets in every direction, hitting some of the sector. I hear a familiar groan of pain and look back for half a second to see Eddie.

Not Eddie. I can't lose him, too. Not now. Not after all of this. Red begins to spread through his white shirt near his shoulder and in his arm.

A new anger fills me and I throw my fists into the final guard. Even after his gun is thrown to the floor, I continue to punch him. I slam my fists into his head, beating it to a near pulp. I feel one of the bones in his head break and memories of the boss man flood back into my mind.

I look at the guard. His dying body has its head beat in just like my family and just like the Street Rats and everything is my fault. I am just as bad as the man. No, I am worse. The man didn't do that with his hands. He was not a savage as I am. He actually protected his people. I couldn't even protect Eddie.

The sector stares at me. I am an animal, a savage creature. That is why they stare. That is why everyone stares and makes a spectacle of me. No, I make a spectacle of myself. I am a disappointment to myself and to everyone around me.

I want to run to Eddie, but even he stares at me, afraid. God, how could I do this? I ruin everything I touch. I wreck it and destroy it and bring it beyond the point of saving. I am the problem.

The remaining sector members free the captured members and start to leave. No one bothers with Eddie as they leave. This hurts him, his eyes illustrate that much.

I pick him up, shutting my eyes so that he doesn't have to see the savage creature that I am. Or maybe that was more for me, so that his blinding goodness didn't hurt my eyes. I carry him out of the building.

As I do so, I feel a hand touch my hair. I can't help but open my eyes. He is smiling at me softly, content with touching my hair. "Thank you, Winona."

"Don't thank me. It's my fault you got hurt. Don't be happy. Just don't die, okay?" Oh God, I don't think I could bear to lose him. I've lost everyone; losing him would be another routine act to me. But I don't think I could live after him. I could live before him, so I'm sure that it is possible, but without Eddie, life would seem monotonous and boring and empty.

I hate being empty. I have enough empty for everyone. I don't know if I can become any more empty. I must not be empty if I feel like I can lose something.

I run back home as fast as I am able to, the rest of the sector far gone. I don't want to see them anyway. I can't stand their burning eyes anymore today. How could they just leave Eddie?

Eddie falls asleep, though it is not a death sleep, so I don't wake him. When I get back to the factory, I head straight to the room where I sleep and set him on my bed. I get out the needle and thread that I was given and begin paying attention to his wounds.

I have to unbutton his shirt to get to his shoulder. As I am doing so, I see deep scratches across his stomach. I look at them as he sleeps. They say all kinds of condescending things, all deeply carved into his skin. It hurts my heart to see this. Who did this to him?

I decide to ask him when he wakes up. I remove his now-blood-stained shirt and begin paying attention to his shoulder. It takes only a few minutes to clean and stitch up properly. He has one more wound in his arm, which I quickly pay attention to. Luckily for me, neither of the bullets were lodge in him still, so all I had to do was clean and wash his wounds.

My curiosity gets the best of me and I look at his stomach again. There are several deep cuts all across his stomach. Is this my fault? Did I cause this to happen? The word "worthless" is carved repeatedly across his stomach, which hurts my heart. He is not worthless. He is so far from worthless.