A Path to Wonderland

Chapter 2: Away from Home

I think now the introduction to my life story is known, I should probably tell you who exactly I am. Odd to think I'd have to formally introduce myself to a blank page but for the sake of the readers, here we go...

My name is Gwyneira, Gwyneira Phantoms.

I think it's pretty obvious 'Phantoms' wasn't the name I was born with, so I'll write this only once for you. It was a name Icame up with when enrolling into Atlas Academy. I was 14, so I really don't think you can blame me for such a poor choice of a name. My sister seemed to like the name actually, which only added fuel to the fire that was my cocky, childish attitude growing up, though, as much as I hate to admit it, maybe I'm still just a tiny bit cocky and over confident. 

No, scrap that. I'm definitely cocky and over confident. That's actually what ended me up in here after all...

My airship, a simple Bullhead, got shot down because I had purposely decided to take a shorter route back to Atlas, and by 'shorter' I specifically mean the more dangerous route. James would have probably never authorized such a route, yet that is why I am here and why he has no clue as to where the hell I am. He's probably at his desk right now, bad mouthing me for being late to arrive! Ironic really, that it would cost me a longer trip to go the shorter route. Life truly does have the weirdest of plans for me, doesn't it? 

The guards here aren't nearly as observant as the ones in Atlas to be fair, though they are much rougher around the edges. Definitely not afraid to beat down onone of the prisoners for merely speaking out of turn. 'My cocky attitude will honestly be the death of me.' I snorted at the thought, though I knew it's true. My throat is sore, my leg bashed in, and not to mention my body aches from head to, well, toe? That's a tricky one, seeing as I only really have one set of toes, my right leg from the mid-thigh down being....non-existent. I lost it during The Fall of Beacon. 

I'm not too adjust to the new leg, seeing as it's an old model that's a little on the heavy side, but I was getting somewhat near to bearing it till someone had to bash it in. You see my problem now? How am I to hope to escape when I can't even stand...? I could pray for a saviour or I could continue to take the beatings and refuse to give them the code to the safe of what exactly I was transporting to Atlas. To James specifically.

I'd rather keep my word to my co-workers and my...ugh,'friends' I suppose I'd call them, as the Air Force Marshal, than die telling these good for nothing, wannabe criminals the code to my sister's life.

....That sounds odd. I'll tell you about it later. Or, well, write about it.