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Lost Either Way

I’ve been pulled into many situations against my will these past two years. I seem to have a knack for getting into trouble and then getting back out again but, standing with my hands flat on the table, partly hunched over it I know there’s no getting out of this one.

“I can’t.”

But that’s not enough, he needs an explanation. So he looks on trying to spook my thoughts out and onto the table. Or at least that’s what he looks like, I doubt he was really trying to do anything like that.

“This is suicide, there’s no way I’m getting out of this.”

“There are many ways you could get out”

“Then send someone else!”

“I can’t because no-one has your skill”

“Tryst could easily do it and get out”

“No she’s good at lying, we want you to tell the truth the way you know to and besides he already knows Tryst”

I mumble “she could do it”

“Would you really take that chance?”

He knows I would never put Angel in such danger myself even if he has done it countless times. And had he not known my fidgeting and hand wringing would’ve given it away. I’m a rather bad lier and I suppose that’s just as well because I hate to lie.

I let the table support me so that he won’t see me tremble; he can already see my indecision, he doesn’t need to see my weakness.

“I am not like you or your soldiers or spies or whatever you want to call them, I can’t get through this stuff easily, I can’t kill and it’s bad enough having to stun people with a gun they think will kill them-”

“Oh I’m sorry did you want a nice colourful one with a sign that says ‘don’t worry I can’t kill you anyway’?!”

“No.”

“Then get ready for your mission. You can assemble a team to go with you if you want.”

“But if I fail they die too. So actually you’re just allowing me a team because you know I won’t take one with me.”

“I thought you knew better; even if they don’t go in with you you can have a team that follows you with comms and a tracker who could look up anything you need to know and tell you where to go. You could also have an extraction team in case you can’t get out.”

“That place is a fortress that’s why you didn’t want a big team to storm in in the first place! The extraction team wouldn’t get past the front door.”

“Then don’t have one.”

“I can’t do it”

“You have to.”

He left the room before I could answer. Angel would’ve given her life without hesitation, she would’ve followed her orders and she would’ve gotten out all alone with no team at all yet here I am trembling despite leaning on the table, tears slowly smashing against the glass surface. Knowing that I alone could do this. I’m not a soldier, even less a spy, I’m a coward. It’s kept me alive so far. Sure I’ve been through a lot but I’m still terrified of dying and afraid of being hurt, it’s human nature and unlike most people here I can’t suppress it. And when I’m that scared I can’t move which hardly makes for a difficult target. My skills (though not that developed) lie in hiding, waiting and persuasion. Angel taught me a little self defence too though I’m still useless against the people here (except for a few scientist that never go in the field but that doesn’t count).

The table is useless against my trembling now and I hate seeing the tears fall almost like rain splashing over my hands so I put my back against the wall and slide down it until I take up very little space and I cry silently but breath a little heavily.

I’m not a hero, I’m not strong, I’m not brave; I’m weak and cowardly, maybe my only redeeming quality is that I’m smart, and even then that’s not much compared to some people. I can’t face this. I can’t face this alone and yet anyone who comes with me dies and I can’t let that happen either. I’m a bad excuse for “the only one who can save us now” whoever said that was highly over exaggerating. Either that or the world was doomed from the start. I’m the flaw here. If anyone here had half what I had they’d put it to a better use when I would just cower in a corner wishing it all to be over but no, it’s people with strength and courage and a license to kill (that part I don’t envy) who could get in but not do what needs to be done and then there’s me, who could perhaps manage to make it work but I’d have practically no way in and definitely no way out. I have to sacrifice myself for the good of all and no matter how I see it or try to think of it I can’t bring myself to face it. These past two years I’ve been avoiding the truth but it’s hard to do that when it’s staring you in the face and this is one of the hardest of truths and I just can’t deal with it.

Will the world die? Or will I be able to sacrifice everything I have and then even my life, to make it go on a while longer? I wish I were a proud martyr. But I’m not.
I’m lost either way.

 

…..••••••……..•••••…….••••••……seasofemotionwashingoveryou…..••••••••……..••••••…….

This kind of maybe follows another post (can you guess which one?)
Ok, being optimistic (hoping people actually read this that is) I’m guessing you either haven’t been here before or you forgot everything you read here already (which I don’t blame you for) so here it is: Pick A Side
Anyways I’m always glad to to get feedback, good or bad 😉

For those of you who did remember it (or who just read it) I know I said I wouldn’t be writing any more of this… I lied… I meant it at the time but now I’m not so sure… you may or may not see something related to the adventures of mysterious Tiger again, I don’t know, I guess we’ll all find out!

 
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Posted by on 16 July 2014 in Banzaï

 

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Speakeasy #158 – Pick A Side

I’m lying down, snippets of things that happened so fast still playing in my head. I know I’m alone now, because no-one’s talking and I’m pretty sure I’d hear if they were and there is no new pain. I can’t get my thoughts together and I can feel the blinding white of the room suffocate me. Is this me going mad? I can’t think, these people are asking me questions and It’s driving me insane and I’m having trouble remembering my name, if this doesn’t kill me it’ll never leave me sane if they don’t stop… just stop. Shut up!

Shut up.

Calm down.

Stop bloody thinking.

If you’re uncapable of thinking about anything else then just don’t think.

 

That’s easier said than done.

I once had a friend who’d tell me that talking to yourself was the first sign of madness. I’d get frustrated, not because I was mad, but because I didn’t want anyone to think I was mad. Then, one day, I found an answer for her: “it’s only madness if you think you’re talking to someone else” I said, “not if you know you’re talking to yourself” I said. Bloody useful that turned out to be. For the moment I can still tell reality from the rest. But for how long?

 

I shiver, now feeling the pain as the panic and confusion dim… bad reflex; not only does it hurt, it hurts more. Maybe I’ll die here. What would happen then? But I know I won’t die here, maybe only because I’m too young to think otherwise but it’s a shield, to know that I’ll get out of here eventually… and one I’ll gladly keep.

 

I tense as I hear the door open (so I’m not deaf) then close. It’s agony as I can’t hear the silent steps probably coming towards me. That means there aren’t many people, a lot of people can’t all be that silent (can they?). I flinch involutarily as a hand touches my shoulder. I think I know whose hand it is. So I really have gone crazy. No, I remember what they said, in that case, it’s not so strange that she would be here.

“Hey… how are you?”

How are you?! I will kill this woman! I have been tortured and rendered mad as a hatter (though which hatter and how mad could be cause for debate) but in any case she would only have to look at me to know that I was not “fine”. Not even close. But I didn’t have the heart to say such things so silence was all she got from me. Sometimes, silence can say a lot.

“I had no idea of what had happened to you or what they were doing to you here…”

How convenient for you. And how convenient for them to tell you only once they had tried everything else they could (legaly speaking). How convenient for me to be underage and for my mother to work for them then. I’m lucky I’m only 17, a year later and it would’ve been much worse. And how convenient for my mother to be away when I need her.

“Take me home. Take me home and I’ll tell you everything you want”

What am I saying? Damn, see? This is me going crazy. Goddamn idiot.

“… I’m sorry…that’s the one thing I can’t do”

“It’s not the only thing” I riposte,

“They thought I knew about you, I didn’t so they told me who you really were, they didn’t hurt me.”

I sat up so I could see her when she answered.

“If they didn’t hurt you then…”

My mother’s not a spy for nothing, or she’d be dead already.

“Why won’t you say where they are?”

Looks like it’s job first, love after.

“Because you’d kill them”

SHIT. Now they know I know…

“Let’s go out a while”

That’s ambitious of you, but then I can barely walk and it’s not like I’ll go somewhere unguarded.

“Can I borrow your phone?” I ask

“Sure”

I write to the number I had memorised:

RUN U 2 DON’T TELL/LOOK BACK + THROW THE PHONE

I only have the time to press send before her gun hits my head.

I scramble up only to get shot from in front, (she was behind me).

I had betrayed both people I loved the most and because of them I died. I suppose it was only right, and the rightness eclipsed every mistake made along the way.

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Posted by on 22 April 2014 in Banzaï, Speakeasy

 

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