Aware (Incomplete)

Chapter 9

We stand formed up in a file with equal distances between myself and the two other perpetrators. My stomach is uneasy, but I do my best to keep my expression blank as I stare at a spot directly to my front.

Staff glares at us with disapproval.

He motions for us to move apart and he approaches us individually. I stand up straight and stare just above Staff's head as he moves into my peripheral vision. I focus on him, trying to feel what he has planned for us. I feel his malicious glee which is quickly replaced by fear. That's strange. Why would Staff be afraid? A look of uncertainty passes across his face, but it is gone as quickly as it appears. His aura reflects his facial expressions. For now, he is an open book. Then it's not Staff's fear that I am feeling, but it doesn't belong to either of the others. So, why is it so familiar? The quivering pulse I feel in my stomach amplifies which reflects in Staff's aura. It isn't his fear, it is my own, radiating from him. I must be mistaken, how can Staff feel my fear? But my head throbs with the echoing reflection of my aura combining with his. Staff's head snaps up and his eyes connect with mine. Our connection alters, like a radio tuning in to a frequency. I no longer feel fear or confusion, just his malice. The way his eyes pierce holes in mine make me uncomfortable. It is like he is searching for something. I suppress a shiver and push all confusion aside. Now isn't the time for me to mull this over. I have immediate matters which I must first overcome.

When he speaks, it is barely louder than a whisper. It makes me long for the shouting, because at least when he shouts, it doesn't feel like he is holding himself back.

"You couldn't even make twenty-four hours without pulling yourself into the spotlight, could you Norman?" He emphasises my name by drawing out the vowels, like the way a child asks for sweets.

"You left your mates behind today." His face is deadpan. "They were struggling with their tasks, and instead of helping them, you and your friend here ran out to claim the glory."

He seems to grow as he talks, leaving me to shrink in his shadow.

"In battle, you left your fellow soldiers to die, and you ran like a coward from the enemy."

A knot crawls it's way from my stomach into my throat. It finally makes sense. I understand why leaving early was a mistake. Although running out to the parade before our friends didn't have any immediate consequences, the scenario was transferrable. If we had been in a fight, the consequences would have been so much worse.

I feel awful, like I ate something that I couldn't swallow. I stare at the space above Staff's forehead, but I feel his eyes run over me. The silence seems to last for minutes.

"Get your bottle, and get your arse back out here. This is your warning, don't let it happen again. You and your friends will be running laps tonight after class."

He nods his head towards the barracks in dismissal. I turn and run.

As my feet hit the bitumen with a steady rhythm, I consider how grateful I am that he spoke to me first. I already feel almost sick with guilt. At least I am able to leave before I start to feel what the others do as well. I run as fast as my feet will take me back to our room. The fastest trainees are already returning to the clearing with full water bottles in hand.

I race in and grab my bottle from the green duffel bag at the foot of my bed. Without a second thought, I rummage through Matteson and Casey's duffle bags to find their bottles too. I learned my lesson.

I run into the bathroom holding the three kidney shaped bottles by their lids. As I hold each bottle under the running water, I take a moment to gather my scrambled thoughts.

What was that strange connection between Staff and me? It was so different from anything I had felt before. It was like I was standing in a hallway and yelling so loudly that the echoes had become indistinguishable from the source. I couldn't tell where his feelings ended and mine began.

One thing was clear. If I didn't imagine our brief interaction, Staff has awareness. He is like me.

The water pours over the lip of the bottle and all over my hand snapping me from my trance. I turn off the tap and tighten the lids of all the bottles before tucking them under my arms and running outside to join my cohort.

I run into Matteson at the entrance. I block out the awareness. I am only strong enough to deal with so much disappointment at once. He looks shaken up. It is confronting to be told you are a terrible person to your face, and I am guessing that this is new to Matteson. He has gone pale and a bead of sweat trickles past his temple from the effort of the run. He forces a smile when he sees me, but although I cannot feel it, I see his face drawn out in fear.

For me, it takes effort to shut out other people's emotions. They are always there, like a piece of who they are. But I often find at times like these, blocking them out is worth the effort. I pass the bottle and he half-heartedly nods his thanks. Together we line up at the back of the formation in the clearing. Neither of us wants to draw any more attention to ourselves. When Casey re-joins the group, I pass him his bottle too. We each stare at the back of the person to our front, mentally preparing ourselves for whatever awaits us.