Caught On Fire

CHAPTER 1

"Hey, Amber!" I hear a high pitched yell coming from behind. I cringe, feeling everybody's eyes on me. I turn around slowly, and a bright eyed girl is standing behind me, a large smile plastered on her face. "Hi," Julie says, scrunching her freckle-filled nose.

"Hello," I say to her, smiling a bit. "Was the yelling really necessary?"

She nods once, hard. "Of course. How else could I get your attention?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe by walking towards me and touching my shoulder?" I keep walking.

"Boring," she sighs. "Since when did you become so sour?" She asks, trotting after me.

"I'm not sour," I make an ugly face. "I'm considerate. The Principal will reprimand you."

She rolls her eyes. "Like I care about him. He's just a brainwashed idiot old man."

I stare at her, and I think my jaw is touching the floor. I glance up at the camera in the corner of the hall, and tug Julie away from the crowd of students, pulling her into an empty bathroom.

I put both my hands on her shoulders and search her ice blue eyes for something. Reason. Worry. Fright. I see none of it, just anger.

"Are you out of your mind?" I whisper-yell. "You're not supposed to speak against a piece of authority. Especially not in public, where the cameras can see you."

"They killed him, Amber," she whispers, her eyes filling up with tears.

A cold chill runs down my spine and my arms drop to my sides. "Killed who?" I already know the aswer.

"Jacob," she says, her voice a little louder now as she wipes the tears from her eyes, catching them before they fall down her cheeks.

"When? How?" I feel myself going weak at the knees and I have to lean against a bathroom stall for stability.

"Over the summer," she sniffs, not looking at me. "They found out he was Red, and he didn't report it. So they killed him." She shakes her head, making her blond hair bounce. "Private execution." She looks at me now. "They treated him like a Rebel, Amber."

I close my eyes and bow my head. Red. They killed him because he was Red.

I'm Red.

I need to concentrate. Concentrate on the white walls, on the light blue bathroom stalls, on my pristine surroundings. It's so clean, it's nauseating.

I didn't want to believe The Government was capable of murdering the innocent. I thought maybe the Reds that were executed had commited crimes we didn't know of. I thought maybe the people they killed were dangerous.

But that can't be. Jacob wasn't dangerous. His deep blue eyes, his dark curly hair, his dimples when he smiled, which was always, his tight hugs, his deep laughter, those things weren't dangerous. And neither was his superhuman strength.

I feel my skin warm and I have to calm down. I can't let this anger, this sadness overpower me. I'd burn the whole School down.

I take a deep breath. "I'm so sorry," is all I can say.

"Yeah," she says, her lip trembling. "Yeah." She nods, and a tear slips out of her left eye.

I pull Julie into a soft hug. She pushes me off.

"You don't get it, A," she says, her face twisted with anger. "I'm going to kill The Principal.

I bite my lip and shake my head. "Julie, you don't know what you're s-"

"He was the one that reported him!" She yells. I put my hand over her mouth.

"You may not value your life, but I do. Be careful with what you say," I glare at her. I let my hand fall.

She shakes her head. "How can you still be loyal to The Government?"

I laugh. Really laugh. Julie glares at me.

"Juliette," I say calmly, "I'm ready to crush The Government in my hand." I narrow my eyes. "Why do you think I haven't run out and reported you?"

She studies me for a few seconds, trying to find a reason to call me a liar. Then she sighs and looks down at her feet, then to the left, then to the right, then back at me.

"Look, I have a plan," she speaks in a low, scary voice. "I can't tell you right now. All I can say is I have The Principal's schedule, and I know the time he's alone in his study. A little poison and he's out."

I nod, my head reeling with anxiety and fright and nervousness and excitement.

"I have the outline of the building, too. And the working schedule of the employees here. That's all I can say," she whispers. "But I will kill The Principal. Just you know that."

I nod again, hard, and glance at the door. "We should go," I tell her. "People will begin suspecting of us if we stay in here too long."

Julie nods and begins walking out the door, her frame tense. Then she turns around. "Meet me here tomorrow at lunchtime. Okay?"

I nod again. "A-alright."

She looks down and walks out the door.

I turn and look at myself in the mirror. I feel like the word MURDERER is plastered on my forehead, but nothing's there. I feel different. I don't look different, but I feel different. In these last ten minutes, I found out one of my best friends had been executed for keeping himself a secret, and I agreed to kill the man responsible for the Soldiers knowing.

Again, I need to concentrate. I stare into my deep blue eyes. People have always said they were beautiful, but I've never seen that. I only see boring blue eyes, decorated by dark thick lashes. My nose is thin and long, and my lips are chapped. If they weren't so dry, I guess they could be pretty. But I've always had the bad habit of biting my lips when I'm nervous, which is always.

I stand up straight in front of the mirror and stare at myself. I sometimes wish makeup still existed. My grandmother told me about it. She said they had things that could hide your pimples and spots on your skin and your dark circles under your eyes. They had things that could make you flawless. But The Government took that all away in an attempt of making us all be the same. If we're all the same, we all have the same, and we envy no one.

But that's not quite true. We still have personalities, and we're insecure (some of us), and we're still different even though we're supposed to be the same. We still consider certain people beautiful and some people ugly. I'm average. I'm nothing people would turn their heads for, not like with Julie. I can safely say she has gotten more than 100 love letters this past summer. But me? Well, I've had my first kiss. It was slobbery and disgusting. And that's about as close as I get to having a boyfriend.

My mother tells me that I'm just 16, and that love will come at its due time. But I'm lonely. Even Jacob liked Julie. He never liked me. I'm too clumsy and awkward. I like watching the sky, I like the sound of rain, I like going out when it's snowing and I like to sit on the ground until I can't feel my nose anymore because I like feeling things, and realizing that there's more to this life than just Home, School, Work, Repeat, despite what The Government has made many people think.

I grab my dark wavy hair and push it to the side, and with swift movements, braid it and tie it at the bottom. I look into my eyes once again.

Murderer, my subconscious tells me.

No, I reply. They're the murderers. I'm just bringing justice.

But am I really the one who should be judging?