How the Flower Bloomed

Chapter 6: Rehabilitation

"What do you think you're doing Skylar!" I yelled at him.

"Don't test my patience Alison. I just need to talk to you. Now step forward and sit on this chair," He started toying with the gun, looking at me from the corner of his eyes and half smiling. Then he stepped to the right to reveal a cracked wooden chair, so short and frail that it was very evident that it cannot carry a human body, behind him.

"This isn't even a real gun now is it?" I raised my eyebrow conveying my confidence to him and smiled. After having done surprisingly well in the training hall, I felt like I could rule the world and I wouldn't let anyone, especially the singer, Skylar take that away from me.

"Why did they get you here?" He asked, now gradually showing his curiosity.

"Can you put that gun down already?" I asked noticing how irrelevant it looked in comparison to the normal and harmless conversation we were having.

I smiled as he put it down and he smiled as well making his eyes shine. Consequently, I stared at them, for too long and noticed the solidified tears they held. The tears' nature was cold and dark and I got lost in them trying to figure out why they were there, until he interrupted my train of thought.

"Now," he said in an ominous tone," start talking Alison. Why did they get you here?" How am I supposed to know, I haven't been provided with a user's manual. That is a good response indeed Alison, I mentally patted myself on the back.

"Am I supposed to know?"

"Don't play dumb with me," he said raising his hand.

"Why, do you know why you're here?"

"They usually bring in here lonely children, orphans, broken souls whom they can invade and reprogram the way they wish. All you need to give a broken, abandoned child is a motive, a reason so he'll set foot in the world again with a new version of solidified hope that he could make things right again. In response to the revenge that is triggered in their minds and they pursue what they want without tolerating no as an answer," wait I'm lost now, what is he talking about here, "and then if they set out to find a mother who left them,for example, and she denies them once again, they eliminate her from their lives mercilessly."

"Are you doing this thing where you talk in third person, when in fact you're talking about yourself?"

"So why did they get you here?" he asked ignoring my question, so then it hit me. Yes, this is his case, he killed his mom though?

"Umm, no I'm not hurt or anything," I lied, "but my father was an agent here and they..." I have no idea where to drive this lie.

"You have no clue about what's going on, do you? Here, all the kids who are chosen are emotionally scarred. They are either hurt or very fragile and likely to be, so you are mistaken if you think that you can conceal your problems, everyone will find out, sooner or later," why is he being very insensitive at the moment? Most importantly, what happened to him? He is as dramatic as a girl is though, for he is illustrating a story that no one can be perfectly sure of.

Suddenly, a terrifyingly vivid thunder bolt hit the ground. I saw the intricate details of a thunder bolt for the first time in my life: its sharp angles on each side, the blinding florescent neon color, and the impeccable glossy reflective texture. Skylar's neck and mine hurt because of the sudden flips that our head made at the sight of the attractive bright illumination source.

"I need to go now Ali...," he screamed while running to and then down the rusted staircase, that played an ear-piercing musical piece at the force inflicted on it by Skylar's rush.

I couldn't help my legs from running after him. I took the same steps he took, through the woods, hoping that would make it easier for me to reach him on time for questioning. The only thing that slowed me down was the sudden sound of thunder that made me raise my head searching for the lighting bolt among the tall pine trees. They could easily catch fire and I had to get out of there.