Manipulation Room victim no. 38403
Name: Henna Castiel
Age: 29 years old
Occupation: House-wife
Family Member: 38-year-old sister, Emerald
Description: a ruptured kidney, a fractured skull, 28 rib fractures and grazes to her face, neck, back, skull, arms, legs and torso caused by a large mallet.
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It had been over half an hour and Ezra still hadn't walked out of the school building. Every other student had already left but I still hadn't seen him. He can't have already left, his belongings were still in the classroom. I leant my back against the wall I was standing in front of and groaned. My groan echoed around the empty school grounds before diminishing into nothingness. Where was he? Had he seen me waiting for him and decided to take another route? But there weren't any other routes but this one. He had to have walked through these gates...but he hadn't. In this heat I could barely formulate a thought. There was no cooling breeze or cloud to block the high, boiling sun. I curled my fingers around the thin fabric of my top, waving it in and out to create just a little air flow, but it wasn't enough, like an ice cube into boiling water.
Wait. Waiting. Sounds easy, right? Full bladder. Thirsty. Hungry. Hot. Aching muscles. Bored. The only reason I was still stood here was because of my desperation to explain myself. The thought of him hating me was one I didn't want in my head. It stung, knowing that he might hate me now. That he thinks I'm responsible for his sketchbook. I drummed my fingers against the brick wall, considering just leaving. But I couldn't. I had to fix this, I simply had to. I couldn't have Ezra hating me, it made me feel strangely awful.
It must've been over fourty minutes when I finally saw him. He seemed just as lonely and desolate as he had when he first arrived in the school this morning. There was a slight twinge in my heart, seeing him so utterly despondent. He was staring at the ground, his earphones in his ears, his hands shoved deep into his pockets...completely oblivious to everything around him. It suddenly occurred to me that this confrontation would be a lot harder than I thought it would be. What would I do, what would I say? Slowly, I made my way towards him.
"Ezra!" I called, just as he was about to walk through the gates. He looked around, suddenly catching my eye, and his face dropped. I saw something that could've been hatred and my heart dropped in my chest. I don't know why, but that spiteful glance was painful to see. He turned away from me and began to run through the gates. He was fast but I was desperate and so I sprinted after him, calling his name. I hate running. This was more than I'd ever do for anyone, it was a shame he didn't know that. In Sports, I'd struggle to do a single lap. I'd hide amongst the bushes on the field and read a book after my second lap, unseen by all.
I found myself growing more and more desperate with every step, "Ezra, Ezra please listen to me!" I cried, running down the street after him. I saw him running a few metres ahead so I quickened my pace, intent on catching up with him. One moment I was rushing forward, eyes on Ezra who was racing ahead of me. The next, I was flying through the air, my expression was one of shock and horror. My left foot should have extended to take my weight, instead it was caught on a tree root. The world rushed by in a blur and I knew the pain was coming. It went by fast, yet slow, almost suspended. Then impact. I didn't move - anything to delay the part where I took in what I looked like now. Torn and dirty skin, reddened, groaning in pain.
At the very sound of my pain, Ezra froze on the spot. He stopped dead in his tracks and ran back to me, accidentally dropping his bag on the floor in the process. He didn't seem to notice as he breathlessly sprinted towards me. "Lyric! Oh God, are you okay?" His face was one of pure concern as he helped me up off the ground, and that filled me with a lovely warmth which was slowly diminished by the fact that he still hated me. I shrugged, staggering on one foot, "I'm fine. Really, I am."
He held my arm to keep me steady as I balanced on one foot. "I need to talk to you, Ezra, please." I begged, grabbing his arm and leaning my head against his shoulder to keep me steady. He picked his bag up off the floor and swung it over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off of me and still holding my arm tightly, "Really, Lyric? You're hurt, just-"
YOU ARE READING
The Manipulation Room
Science-fictionOn the planet, Delta 5, where oxygen is running low, people are finding it hard to survive. That is until President Thanatos decides it's time to put the bounds of love to the ultimate test. Introducing, The Manipulation Room. But when you are made...
