Wrong[DISCONTINUED]

Unseen

"K-Kesha?" I sputtered, stumbling back a step.

A small smile played across her delicate features, " Yes", She responded simply.

My face twisted into a sneer at the same time that Claire growled a warning to stay back.

A haunting laugh slipped from Kesha's lips, her eyes glazing with contempt " What are you going to do, report me?"She gave a pointed stare towards our inappropriate attire.

I barked a filthy curse at her, the words themselves bordering on unauthorized.

She looked down her nose at me" If only everyone could see this side of you. You would be much more than excluded then"

I harnessed my roiling rage, tethering it so tight that I almost choked on it." What are you doing here?" I demanded.

" The same could be asked of you" She simply responded, gesturing a fine-boned hand towards the pitch, the people surrounding me" I will be putting an end to this nonsense"

I opened my mouth to voice a retort, but Trisha beat me to it" And just how, exactly, are you planning to do that?"

Kesha placed her hands on her hips, lips parting in a subdued sneer-subdued, because it was improper for females to wear such a manly expression to its full extent. " The forces will be here in..." She checked a band around her wrist" Two minutes." Hate dripped from her words as she continued" I would tell you to start running, but I'm afraid that you don't have time, even for that."

I started at the poison spewing from her lips"You little-"

"Emera, come on, we don't have time for this!" Trisha cut me off, grasping my wrist tightly and tugging me back towards the hideout, no doubt to lead me towards one of the various hidden exits embedded into the hall.

I simply snarled, hating that she was right. Trisha seemed to understand, for she let go of my arm and began ushering everyone out.

I turned back towards the polished girl before me"One day, when you're married to whatever husband the authorities selected for you, and are nothing more than a pretty face for him to fawn over, you'll think over this moment and wished you joined us instead of doing this. But until you realize, I guess we'll just have to stop you from ruining our lives" And with that, I spat on her dress. Her perfect, gauzy pink dress, covered in frills and laced with silver ribbons.

She gaped at me in shock, face going pale with fury. I just gave her a small smirk before turning on my heel and walking away. Distantly, I heard the rustle of her skirts as she tried to run to catch up to me, heard the thud of her tripping and hitting the ground, followed by a shriek of both disgust and annoyance as I left her lying on the grimy, dirt-stained, ground.

I quickly darted into the hideout to find groups of people ransacking the room, shattering glasses and breaking tables, so as to not leave fingerprints that the forces could trace us by. I quickly followed, the glass shards flying about us sharp as blades, some embedding themselves centimetres deep into my skin. Yet adrenaline banished the pain, even as ruby blood ran down my arms, face and legs.

The smashing of glasses filled my ears, until finally all that remained of them was crystalline powder on the floor. I glanced at the people around me, also noting the blood dripping from their wounds. There was no time to think about it now, though. Not when voices began emerging from outside. A deep, strangely familiar male voice yelled at the rest of the force to search the area, followed by Kesha's high-pitched whining about the condition of her dress.

Stealing one last regretful glance at the room, the place that had been my home more than the house I lived in,one last time, I opened a trapdoor hidden beneath a tacky carpet and began climbing down the ladder, making sure to close the exit behind me. The others would be taking other exits out, so as to confuse the guards. Whilst leaving I had been careful not to let any blood drop onto the powdered floor. But as I closed the trapdoor, watching Alice make her way towards an exit hidden behind a painting, I couldn't help but notice a single drop of red liquid slide from her face and onto the cold floor, splattering there in a condemning drop that would damn us all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was eerily quiet in the dark sewer as I crept silently through the shadows. I could hear every breath, smell the metallic tang of blood in the air. My own blood. Yet all I could think of was that drop of blood on the floor. That tiny death sentence-

I blocked out those thoughts. Alice will be fine, I told myself. She had to be fine. Or else... I couldn't let myself think of what would happen to her if she was caught. What they would do. The torture they would inflict on that beautiful body. Those large lips that would go wan and bloodless. All so that they could know who else was involved. To execute us. To make an example of us so that rebellions were quelled.

No, I shook my head, as if I could dislodge the thoughts, Distraction will get you killed. Indeed, up ahead yellow light poured through a sewer grate. Shoes splashing in unidentifiable muck, I pushed the grate out of its slot, heaving myself into yet another poorly maintained alley. But- there- just a few streets away, my house;its pristine white walls such a contrast to my stained and ripped clothes that I almost barked a laugh. I looked around, seeking pedestrians that might still be out at this hour of the night. Nobody.

Cautiously, I approached my house, pulling a set of keys out of my pocket, unlocking the front door. No one was inside, but I already expected that. With my mother's job as a model, and my father's job with the forces, they were rarely home.

A sudden realization hit me like a punch to the face. That familiar male voice-that had been my father! He would be here any minute!

I sprinted upstairs, yanking a first aid kit from its place on my bathroom shelf and using my basic first aid knowledge, taught to me by George, to treat my wounds, now throbbing in time with my heartbeat. I hissed in pain as I hurriedly removed the glass from my wounds, some slicing even deeper on their way out. I knew I was being sloppy, but right now I had larger concerns than a little bit of discomfort. Wrapping bandages around the greater injuries, I hastily applied generous portions of make-up-gifted to me by my mother when I was 12, and which I had never used until this day-to conceal the angry blots on my face. I started as a sound echoed from downstairs: The turning of keys in a lock.

I panicked, throwing on a long-sleeved shirt just as my father's voice called from downstairs" Emera! I'm home!"

"Hey dad!" I called, wrangling my arms into the sleeves, even as I walked downstairs.

His eyes lit up as he saw me descending the stairs, and he began rambling, as he often did whenever an interesting case came up " Em, you won't believe what happened today! Another rebellion. Or at least that's what we think it was. All of the cups were shattered, and they crushed the tables-Smart ones, they were- But we did find a drop of blood from one of the members. Must have cut their hands on the glass." He paused for a second, gazing contemplatively out the window " I wonder what they do at those gatherings... What could make them risk so much?"

I tried my best not to look too suspicious as I just replied" Yeah... I wonder"