Code of The Queen

6 reasons

Learning to overcome pain isn't easy. But teaching yourself to do so would be easier. A long time ago my mother would tell me, work smarter not harder, but if you work harder sometimes there would be a better reward at the end.

I had always believed her. But now it just seems as though nothing would come from it. My entire time living at the orphanage was like hell. I never really learned, I just watched.

Sometimes just by watching you learn things. Things others don't know. But sometimes when you get curious, you try something out that seems to work in your head. That was my plan now.

I never have time during the day to think of these things anymore. Every morning I'm taken from my cell and brought to a bigger new one.

But this one had chains hanging from the ceiling. Weapons could be found on every wall. All kinds. Blood painted their silver weapons like trophies.

They thought of them as gold metals. My first day they tested me with an  amateur fighter. She was younger, and quick. Quite younger than I.

My young age of nineteen was nothing compared to how much younger she is. At fifteen her decked my ass hard. But each blow I actually hit her with nocked her off her feet.

But I wasn't quick enough. Or fit enough. I was fed with every other prisoner here. I was treated like I didn't matter.

But who here wasn't. Everyone here was used somehow, someway. The men worked on buildings and weapon making. The woman were used for sewing clothes, nursing, and for the guards basic pleasure. It disgusted me.

I was held in a separate cell. Away from the others. Any others who tried to talk to me were beat to a pulp. Not by me of course, the guards.

It caused riots in the halls. Many of them glared at me, but the ones who had enough balls spit on my feet.

Ever since my shift I had grown in height, and body. My natural heating made me sweat a lot so I wore thin clothes. I hadn't a care in the world for what they looked like I just hated the thought of sweating every second of the day.

I had continued this for four days now. I was supposed to be training for something new. Yesterday one of the bigger men came in and chained my wrists to the ceiling and punched me in the gut like his own puppet.

Towards the end I emptied my stomach out all over his head. That only resulted in him setting me down and beating the shit out of me later after I hung there for an hour.

I woke up early today. My dreams were of death. And thought of life. I wondered what it would be like if I had never left that wall. If I had stayed. If my mother.... No don't you dare think of her! Ever!! Not again.

Soon someone should come to my cell. And take me out for more training. I hated it. Every second of it. While they used weapons against me I had nothing. Just my bare hands.

For a while I found myself thinking about the orphanage, what they may be doing. If they even cared that I was gone. Or if Bridget was gone.

My upset mind traveled to her. All the secrets I don't get to figure out. The info I still needed. The sister that needed me. And I let her slip right from beneath my hand's. And it's my fault.

I didn't get to her in time. And I took her with me. Doing the selfish thing and risking even her health. And I hated myself for it. I will never forget it, ever.

That came to my next issue. I should have hit my heat. But haven't. Why?