The Final Exam

Chapter 18

June Carrey

"You're so gullible. You and your friends...
Well, not that you would escape anyway..."

Her black heels tap around the room. Each step makes my body ache more and more.

But I'm still alive. She thinks she's won, but I'm alive. At least for another 30 minutes.

THIS ISN'T THE END.

The pained and somber expression frozen on Michael's face tells me to do something. Anything,
IT CAN'T BE THE END.
WE NEED JUSTICE.

My legs can't move, and my only guess could be that my bones are torn to bits. My only hope is to use my arms to drag myself to an end. To an escape, attract attention, something.
"I can't believe you, Yeni. You aren't human," Andrew shakes her violently. "... you seriously don't care what happens to anyone? Not him, not her, not me,

Mom? Our Father!?
Isn't he the reason you sacrificed your childhood, risked your life, worked restlessly for?"

She glanced back in my direction for a moment, and I stood as still as a lifeless puppet. A motionless marionette tossed to the side, idle, waiting for sturdy, skillful hands to pull my strings and limbs to feign life. Unfortunately, I approximate that would be my end.

Or, at least, if I don't try.

There was silence. And then, before I could gasp, she stared back at her brother.

I have to keep moving. My arms begin the perilous journey towards the door, but then I stop abruptly. I look back to Michael's face. He was the love of my life. I don't know how I could live without him. But I am.

I give him a tender kiss on the cheek. I breathe a whisper in his ear,

"I'll be seeing you soon."

Yeni stutters to break the silence. "... I... w-wouldn't... I don't believe—"
"What, Yeni? You don't know the answer? Perhaps it would help if you took another look at what you did, huh?" Andrew aggressively pulls Yeni out of the room. I know where.

The Lab 1.

My tired arms pull me closer, inch by inch, foot by foot, to the little metal door to the outside. I think of happy memories to numb the everlasting physical pain. Memories of the day I met Andrew, the relief I felt when I got glasses for the first time, the sleepy afternoons I secretly spent sitting atop the roof of the school, with my head resting against Mike's shoulder.

I feel guilt.

I always knew Andrew had a thing for me, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell him I was dating Michael. I knew it would tear him apart. But I fear,

he has already been shattered to pieces.

It couldn't even be considered at that point, telling him the truth, when I discovered his  truth. He never showed suffering, or even shuddered at the topic of family. He never was suspicious, by no means.

I knew he lacked a father by January. I discovered he missed a sister by February. His youth was plagued by tragedy. And, as if by miracle, he managed to live a semi-normal life afterward. But there was no arguing on whether he still hurts. He bottled the pain up, cached it like gasoline.

All he needed was a single match.

She ignited him. One look from her sepia eyes, one whisper from chapped lips, that was all she needed to drag him back to the darkness.

Before I knew it, I was pulling myself restlessly by my arms, running on shifting memories and labored breathing. I'm only 3 feet away from the ladder leading to the surface. After a few more pulls, I stop to rest for a couple seconds, and glance behind me. There is a trail of red stretching across the tile floor.

"NO! N-NO! These are my studies! I didn't kill her, she's my only ally, my partner! I DIDN'T MURDER HER!" Yeni screams manically.

Andrew proceeds to pressure her,"You just can't admit it, even if the deed is done!?!?"

A few more.
A few more.
Feet.
Inches.
...Ding.

My bleeding hand grasps metal.
Now for the hard part. The ladder.

When I let go of the first bar, I notice my hand. My nearly pale skin is turned grey by dirt, dust, and the red that leaks from a cut beneath my thumb. An imprint is left in the cold steel.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, forgive me. Forgive me. It's his fault, but I did his bidding."

At this point, I can't differentiate their labored voices.

"Forgive me,"

"Blame, blame, blame. It's all you've done."

In all my life, I never saw the need to build much upper body strength. But I guess I was wrong. All those hours spent riding my bike around amounted to nothing.

Ha.

Hahahahaha.

I can't help but laugh. The irony of my situation and what I prepared for just cracks me up. I let out a sigh. It is far from my last one.

I can't help but cry.

One arm grasps in front of the other, making slow progress. The warm emotions I've felt in my life keep me going. My other half envies anyone else in the world. I'd switch places with my younger self, worrying about stubborn low-rise jeans, or biting my nails over some test, or scrambling to impress popular girls in junior high. It all sounds stupid. This is stupid. But then again, isn't ignorance a lesson learned and forgotten? You eventually always find yourself making blind mistakes and compromising to never do something like that again. But you do it again anyway.

A cycle of living and learning.

Learning and living.

That's just the way it is.

Pop.

The metal lid of the door opens.

"... H-hello? *gasp* Oh my god!" Just as I was about to reach the knob, a freshman opens the lid, cursing under her breath. I put my finger to my lips to signal her to stay silent. My heart is pounding in shock. My hand reaches for her to pull me up, and I signal her to close the door shut as I hear footsteps below.

The low whimpering I hear must be mine. I'm not sure.

Her red-brimmed glasses glint in the dim light of the early morning, with her dirty blonde hair over her shoulders, makes her look peculiar. She discovered this place simply by accident.

There is silence,

for a while.

And then,

She utters.

"Its you--"

"-- Call help."