Eleven

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Jason tells me I don’t need to fear death and not to strain myself. It’s been three days now. Some of the girls that clean my room gossip and say they’re surprised he hasn’t let up on me yet. They ask me why am I so special and then they laugh and leave. Jason says that gossip is the tool of the devil and should only be taken lightly and then kisses me and I don’t want to, but I believe him.

Maeve doesn’t torture me with death anymore, but she hasn’t told me why she did it. I know she wants me to know who she is but I don’t see how this would help. She brings in some swords now. Most of them are dull and lifeless but the last one she shows me glimmers in the light. It radiates life but the air around it swirls with death. I’m drawn to it with a sickened fascination. It’s a katana.

She smiles. She’s doing that more now. She’s not shaking her head anymore. That makes me happy because I feel like I’m doing something right.

Soon, I know that the katana is mine and that I was once a warrior of sorts. I killed – which I was horrified to find out – but it was for the good of the people, Maeve tells me, which makes me feel a little better. She says I’m doing well. The blurry spot from my mind is almost gone and sometimes, if I don’t think about it, it seems like it’s not there at all. Maeve says I must not let it go unnoticed. That there’s something very important I must remember.

She keeps pointing at the wall with the pictures of the monsters and I don’t know why. I think she wants me to remember who she is but I don’t know what that has to do with the monster wall. Nothing’s making sense.

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