The Certainty (Book Four in The Illusion of Certainty Series)

Don't Know Me At All

“So tell us a little about yourself,” the woman said.

I was coming to find that every Guild sent three people. The Leader, the Second, and then the Elder of their Guild. For this one, the Pacific Coast Guild aka Gates & Bars, the leader was a woman, the elder was a male, and the second was female. I’d forgotten all of their names at this point.

“What would you like to know?” I asked in return.

“What makes you, you?” the man said.

“Um…well…I’m not sure really. I could tell you I’m flesh, bone, and blood but I don’t think that’s the answer you’re looking for.” He shook his head. “Then I would have to say that my parents are what make me, me. They gave me a set of values and morals to live by and by living by those rules, those guidelines, I am the person you see before you.”

“And who is that?” the leader asked.

“Some one who isn’t quite sure what she wants in life. I can’t tell you what makes me, me because I don’t do a lot of self reflection. I act more than I think. People describe me as obstinate and uncontrollable but I can’t help but think they’re wrong. All Slayers are like that, not just me.”

The man cracked a half smile and wrote something down.

“Tell us about your kills, Georgiana,” he said.

I sighed and went into the events that led up to the kills, how I was coping with them, and even if I regretted any of them and I didn’t. They seemed satisfied with my answer and started asking me some of the standard questions I’d already heard. I answered each one with an honest answer and after an hour of Q&A I was dismissed.

By then it was dinner time and I really wasn’t all that hungry so I just went home. I hated this, my life under a microscope. Even on Friday, they would be analyzing my fighting technique and I was paired with Jamie for that.

“Hi kitten,” my father called from the kitchen.

I frowned. Normally my father stayed in his office. I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath. Whatever my father was cooking smelled great.

“Have a good day?” he asked when I entered the kitchen. “How did the interviews go?”

“They were endless.” I leaned against the fridge. “I don’t know how many answers I can come up with for the ‘Tell us what makes you different’ question.”

My father chuckled. “And just think…it’s only Monday. You still have the rest of the week to get through.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Daddy. These people—” I sat on one of bar stools “—they just don’t get it.”

He stirred the sauce in the pot and put a lid on it. He remained silent as he sat down on the bar stool next to me, contemplating.

“What are they asking you?”

I sighed. “One Guild asked me what it was like being tortured and how I was dealing with it. What the hell am I supposed to say to that?” I looked at him.

“Tell them the truth. Don’t hold anything back. They’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.”

“That’s not the point. Why do they have to ask so many personal questions? I mean, what do they think being tortured was like? It wasn’t fluffy clouds and hopscotch. It was painful and excruciating. Do these people live under a rock?”

“Most of them don’t have the life experience you do. Take it with a grain of salt, sweetheart. Forgive their ignorance and just muddle through the questions. I know dragging everything up isn’t easy for you but try to remember that they are just trying to figure out if you would fit into their Guild.”