Silent Knight

Chapter Two

To the untrained eye, a person would not be able to see where my house was located. I drove along the well-used road that followed the ocean coast, and I hit the button that opened a hidden doorway built into the side of the rocks, allowing me to drive in. Given my profession, there is a lot of money to be made — one of the many benefits. I hadn't built the place, an old friend did for me, but since then, I had upgraded it to make it beautiful.

It was tucked into the side of a cliff that hung above the ocean. The interior was modern, white furnishings with light blue accents. There was a giant glass window that overlooked the water below, but if anyone was to look at it from the other side, all they would see was the rocky side of a cliff. My money and talent made it extremely easy to pick up any new military technology from The War, including the technology camouflaged at my house. The hideout was perfect. I parked the car in the two-story garage and walked into the living room, realizing I had left the T.V. on while I was out. It was playing some old show about doctors. I rolled my eyes, grabbing the remote and flicked off the screen.

I needed a shower.

The bathroom had dark marble floors and walls and a giant glass shower. There was a flat-screen television angled perfectly looking into the tub that was in the corner of the room. I quickly got out of my suit, hung it in its temperature-controlled vault, and stepped into the shower, not before taking a puff from my inhaler.

After I got out of the shower, I wiped a streak of steam off of the mirror, looked, and sighed. I'd never been happy with my appearance. I put on a binder before I kept dreadfully staring at my chest. Next, I put some cream on my hands and applied it to the right side of my face, feeling as my fingertips brushed over the rigid marks that the flame had carved there years ago, making one side of my face a shade darker than the already dark skin tone. I took my hand off of the scars, the smell of burning flesh was still fresh in my mind. The memory started to creep back into my brain, and I quickly pushed it away. That was in the past. A long time ago, in the past. I ran a hand over my head, feeling the rigid scars that still remained. I also made a mental note to myself that I would need to buzz it down again soon and brushed my teeth.

I checked the time, seeing it was about three in the morning, not even that late for me. I hated sleeping. That's when all the memories would walk in, uninvited. I made myself a cup of coffee with a little whiskey in it and sat down in the living room and turned on the T.V. again, settling in with an oxygen tank beside me. The channel was now playing some marathon of classic movies, and I began to watch while I sipped my drink. Before I knew it, I was drifting off. I tried to fight it, to force myself to stay awake, but eventually, I lost the battle and succumbed.

It is my twelfth birthday. We are walking through the mall, I am wearing my new sneakers, everything feels perfect. We got home, and mom was making my favourite supper, baked mac and cheese with ice cream cake for dessert. I unwrapped the binder my parents decided I could finally get and a skateboard. It is the best day ever.

Then suddenly it is night. I am awoken by a strong man lifting me out of bed. I start kicking and squirming, but the man is strong, and I have no success. A cloth bag goes over my head as my wrists are tied behind my back. I am tossed into the back of a van that began moving. Tears rolling down my face as I began to sob.

"Mel?" a familiar voice says. "Mel sweetie, is that you?"

"Mom?" I feel a hand reach out and touch me. "Mom, what's going on?"

"Shh, it's okay sweetie, daddy and I are here," her voice is breaking into sobs, "It's going to be okay."

And at that moment, I believed her.