truce?

The meeting had gone very wrong. The government is hungry, they desire to rip my people apart. Yet, the reason for that was because of a different leader. A different tribe.

A different situation.

Yet they still attribute this to us, this menace to the normal way of life. This danger. But believe me, we are not yet ready to strike first. Not ready for offense.

So we defend. 

                                                                *** 

A small helicopter circles above our small confines, the blades chopping the air. Why is this necessary, a security camera watching our every move? We are trapped. 

For now.

This is finally our chance to get out of this prison, to escape- from this We have been held here for many months that I have lost count. But it changes now. We have been holding it off until the one time the helicopters fly away , the guards leave their posts. The one time the countries come together and make peace, if only for a night. All the security needed here is shipped away to a foreign country, as the meeting needs maximum security. 

We know that there is one helicopter, locked away somewhere. For emergencies. They do not think that we know that the small metal bird is there, behind thick doors and locks. But they do not know many things. We have many eyes. 

The room is behind the cafeteria. There is usually a guard positioned to the right of the door, but not today. We shall find it after we deal with the other obstacles. 

Why are there no guards watching over us? Oh, there is one guard positioned outside our door. He never sleeps. He will be the one real challenge. But alas, the fact that he is awake now will not be true in a matter of minutes.

‘Atalya!’ I called my daughter, who is a master of lock-picking. ‘It is time.’ 

By it is time, I mean that the helicopters have whirred away, bringing the guards with them. It is time for justice. We can finally escape and go back to our normal way of life. 

Just as the thought crosses my mind that we will never be accepted, they will never stop hunting us down, the door clicks open with a hiss. We creep out and see the guard sitting at the security monitors, frowning. Soon, he jumps up when he sees our empty room. This is what we want him to do. 

We tackle him and press a gas mask to his mouth. He breathes in the sleeping concoction and immediately his eyes close. A close friend of mine can make many things, it seems out of air. This is where he comes in. He might be the most important part of this operation. But as I turn around to congratulate him, he has disappeared. Then, alarms start blaring. We have not anticipated this. It was the one thing that he was supposed to prevent.

We ran to the cafeteria. The door is the same, no added security measures. Atalya dashes to the door and frantically tries to hack into the system. It smoothly glides open and we finally see the helicopter. 

A beauty, the yellow- and white- colored helicopter (the government’s colors) shines. A young woman I do not know the name of runs forward and hops in. She tries to find the keyhole, but there is none. The door opens again and the security guard we drugged seems like he was awoken by something. Perhaps the alarm. ‘Help!’ someone cries. The guard has his burly arms wrapped around the body of a small, sobbing child, tears streaming from his azure eyes. ‘I wanna go home-’ 

He is cut off by a hand clapped over his mouth.Everyone but me, my friend, who has run off somewhere, and the boy has piled into the helicopter, which is already slowly rising into the air. I cannot leave them behind, but.. He is a member of my tribe too. I do not have much time to decide, but it is the hardest choice that I have ever had to make. I hate it.

My head whips around, my mind searching for a way out of this impossible nightmare. I will be either leaving many people to starve together, or ruin one boy's life.

I make a choice.

I jump onto the helicopter and watch the boy’s tear-streaked face, already molding into an expression of hate. 

5 years later.

We have to keep moving.

My only thought. 

What I dream of. 

We have not fully escaped. 

The government is ruthless. 

God, save us all. 

I am awoken from my restless sleep by a voice, deep and urgent. ‘We have to move. There is no more time. They are here-’

And that is when I hear the whir. 

A small yellow-white helicopter, slowly descending. I have not seen the colors in so long. We have been running for so long.

So long.

We try to leave, but the helicopter has already reached the ground. 

The hatch opens, and I prepare for a swarm of agents donned in suits, rushing to grab us. 

But what I see is something different altogether.  

It is two boys, one much younger than the other- maybe 15, with familiar blue eyes and tousled blonde hair. In his eyes there is a raging fire. He steps toward me, and I flinch… but he does not look threatening. But my instinct tells me I should stay far, far away from the two of them.

And then I knew.

The older one is the traitor. Who did not make a sleeping gas, yet knocked him out for enough time to make us think he did. The one who sounded the alarm. The one who escaped, without us.

He never cared.

‘You left me.’ The younger boy’s voice is ragged. ‘I-’ 

It comes flashing back. The helicopter, the security guard, the choice. I look at him with horror. 

‘They bred me to kill.’ He continues. ‘They told me to kill others. But finally, my last mission. They thought that it should be me. I should do the honors.’ He laughs, a horrible crackly sound. I bet that he does not remember all the times of joy and laughter we had. I hate that he will force himself to push them out of my mind. Or he just does not care. ‘ None of the other times count, ‘miss’,’ he says in a mocking tone. I am right. He does not care. Memories are useless now. 'Finally.’ And he tackles me. 

We roll around on the grass. He thrusts his curled fist at me, and skin connects. Stars burst in front of my eyes. He grabs me and hoists me over his shoulder like a sack and brings me to the helicopter. People I cannot recognize cluster around me, holding clipboards, when a gas mask just like the one that we used to escape years ago is pressed onto my face. The figures slowly fade as the drugs pull me under.

EDIT: PART 2

I wake up in a pristine white cell. There is a toilet. No sink. A rickety metal bunk bed is pushed up against the wall.

I am imprisoned. I shiver to think if they got my people as well. They do not deserve it... after all, I am the one who left the boy there to die. But does he really think I deserve to die? It was a choice between one and many, so many years ago. He cannot blame me... can he?

Well, no matter what, I am stuck here.

A month passes. Unfamiliar guards bring me bowls of thick, tasteless porridge, or, if I am lucky, a bowl of thin soup alongside my main diet. I wake up and think about my entire life and the events leading up to me, trapped. The government is torturous- they give enough food that I do not starve, yet I am always hungry.

I think I am going insane...

A month passes. I count the days I have been trapped by scratching out tallies with my fingernails on the soft, snow-colored rock they have used to contain me. It glows softly. I guess the government likes to trap their enemies in style.

On a particular day in March, I am sitting in my bed, counting and counting again the days I have been a criminal. 85.. 86.. 87.. I am losing count. A knock on my door jolts me out of my hazy stupor. The guards never knock, they only slip in, slip out.

A face peers through the crack between the door and the doorframe. It is oddly familiar, but then again, I have not been in human presence for so long. And that's when I know. 'You,' I hiss at the traitor. 'Go.'

He looks guilty, and quick as a flash, shuts the door behind him. He is in my cell.

'Give me a second chance.'

I am fuming. 'I don't give away second chances. Especially not to traitors!'

He stares into the distance, but glances at me again. 'Please. I'm not here to hurt. I want to help.'

PART 3 ‘I miss you.’

His voice is sincere, but cautious. He knows my skills. Swordplay was my talent, yet I have no weapons to attack. He still does not approach. ‘You have three days until they come for you. Come with me, and you can hide from them.’

I have no choice. I will never cooperate with a person like him, but if what he is saying is true, I will be killed in three days’ time. Will it be better to escape and try again, I don’t know. I need to wait and see.

And, to be honest, I miss him too.