I am completely aware of the panic overload that is trapped in the echoing room, but I can't feel it. The numbness begins in my head, which is where the first reaction to the news occurs -a realization: This is all my fault.
My body is the only thing that remains still in the room. The numbness spreads from my brain to my neck, then down my spine, and to my limbs.
I can't move.
My eyes stare up at the bear podium. My frozen body is circled by hundreds of frantic slaves.
No, I forgot, we are now soldiers.
Some citizens of other countries volunteer to serve, but that's unheard of in Zarta. That is because we are the most unintelligent, underdeveloped country on the map. Even more than the other two countries that use child slavery, Priston and Danovak. In past military drafts, adults had been chosen to fight. Moments later, they would either captured or killed because we are that low on money, weapons and transportation.
In other words, we've all just been put on death row.
I try to return to my normal state, but I can't. I'm nothing but an innocent young person, who had somehow evolved into a monster in only a matter of days. I never realized that my wish hadn't indicated that I wanted all of us to be free. And I had never realized that there is something even worse than being a Zartan slave: A Zartan soldier. There was something strange about that item Pirie dropped. Something very strange. Yesterday I was responsible for my cousin's death. Today am responsible for my fellow soldiers' death. Before you know it, tomorrow I'll be responsible for the entire country's death.
My eyes finally manage to move, but my feet stay planted in the hard ground. I take a good look around the room. My guilt only goes from bad to worse. Every bit of this disaster was caused by me.
My head bows down, and I stare at the ground. My legs remain still. I look at my bruised up hands and remember my dream.
Then the thought comes to me: The disaster in my dream, the closing box, had stopped when I decided that I wanted to die anyway.
The dream means something. I've never experienced anything like it before. It must have something to do with the wish I made, it has to. I think hard. What could it mean?
That's it. The disaster, this war, will stop when I decide its time to die. Just like the box had stopped closing up when I decided it was time to die. Once I'm dead, I can't cause any more harm to this world.
Then in this case, its time. I look around the hectic room, and a tear runs down my cheek. I know its what I have to do. I need to kill myself. The problems I'm causing are creating a domino effect. If I don't die, my actions will continue destructing the world around me.
Like I said, there's nothing left to live for, anyway.
-.*.-
My mind and body finally wake up when Anne grabs my shoulder and turns me toward her. "Mel! Mel, we have to do something! We have to get out of here!" she yells over the increasingly loud riot around us. I attempt to look at her, but I can't. Her life has been cut short because of my foolish actions. A long pause occurs, and I can sense her staring at me. "Mel..." she begins. "Your... your eye... and your arms... what happened?"
I somehow manage to look up at the girl who I have called my best friend for years. Tears drip down her pale green eyes. "Where did those bruises come from?"
When I don't answer she sighs and wipes her eyes with the back of her hands. "Did... Did they beat you? With their fists?" she asks. I shake my head. "No." I begin. "They didn't do any physical harm to me." She continues staring at me. "Then how did that happen?" she asks. I try pulling my long, browns hair out of my face and manage to make clear eye contact with her again. "Not sure." I respond. That's a lie.
The volume in the room hasn't lowered since Mother Wanel's short news brief. "Your eye looks different..." she says quietly. I barely heard her. "What do you mean?" I say with concern. She gets a good look at it, steps back, and returns. "Its... its not pale blue anymore..." she says. I look at her in shock. "What?" I ask. She continues observing my face. "Your left eye... Its turning dark blue!" Anne says. My neck immediately jolts back. "What?" I ask again. She looks from my left eye, to my right, and then back to my left. "Just the left eye?" I ask. "Uh huh." she responds. "How the-"
My sentence is cut off when Mother Maria begins hammering her two frying pans together once again. With all of the commotion in the room, I can hardly hear the unpleasant crashes. She continues to try and get everyone's attention for at least a minute. Finally, the room is near silent.
Master Tevov rises to the podium on the balcony settled about twenty to twenty five feet up. "I want everyone outside at the Lot in ten." he declares. The giant bunk room doors open and former slaves begin pouring out.
Anne and I exchange glances, and begin following the rest of the soldiers out the door. The volume throughout the crowd has risen once more, but has managed to contain itself this time.
As we venture through the room and make it out to the courtyard, I can't help but blame myself once more for this mess. My now unidentical eyes are like stones being held up by my face. Bags are settled beneath the two, making my complexion on the more bitter side. I obviously don't look in mirrors much considering I don't have one to use, but I can easily see my reflection over the lake I've been using as my escape zone for the past five weeks or so. A short girl with fairly pale skin, thick, dark brown hair and pale blue eyes was the best way to describe me for a while. Now my eyes apparently don't match. That's frightening itself, considering yesterday they were both the same. But my eye color is the last thing I'm worried about right now, and I'm just going to assume the transformation was caused by the dream last night. For now, I have to concentrate on whatever war Zarta may be entering this time. There's no room for anything else.
But that's when this really hits me. The moment I pass a smaller girl, probably six or seven, who walks alone and cries silently to herself in the crowd. As Anne and I pass her up, she briefly looks up at me. Her innocence is being destroyed by my ridiculous actions. But that is if all of this really was caused by my wish. It has to be, though. It just makes too much sense, the dream and giving away Zarta's secret included. It can't just be a huge coincidence, there's too many things involved. No doubt about it, I've managed to destroy the system and all of it's participants.
Knowing I'm to blame for that innocent girl's death, and thousands of others like her, makes my heart stop. Throwing in the fact that I hadn't meant for any of this to happen, it seems as if my actions have become accidental murders...
A single metaphor that stands up for the difference between life and death.
