Page 33 of Finding Fate

"I'm done, so you can look over here again. Not that I would’ve cared. Shit looks like blood."

The earlier embarrassment fades as I turn back to him. "What? Where? Your leg?"

"No, in my piss. Must’ve kicked me a few times in my kidneys."

"Yeah, saw that part. Um... so what are you doing here?"

"Later. Guards?"

"Yeah."

"Just fucking great." I hang my head. I'm the reason he came back, and now he's pissed that he had to come back for someone like me. Or at least that's what I'm thinking until he says, "And look at this. I asked for a king bed with a good view, and this is the shit hole they put me in. I'm going to give them one star on Yelp."

"Did they hit your head?" I blurt. How in the hell can he be joking around? Sure, it's a fun diversion, but we’re in major shit here. "You were captured. Do you remember that part?"

"Yeah, that part sucks, doesn't it? That was not the plan. Well, wouldn’t have been if I had a plan in the first place. And the head-hittin’ part? Not sure, Pops, but based on the okay condition of my face and the blood in my piss, I'm guessing they aimed for my torso. Trying not to hit anything vital, I’m sure."

I’m almost too afraid to ask. "And... why do you think that?"

Silence meets my question. On the other side of the divider, he groans and lies down in the dirt, staying clear of the massive river he created just seconds ago. "Let's talk about it tomorrow, Poppy. I could use a nap."

Shit, they did hit his head. "I’m not Poppy. It’s Fate, remember?" Hopefully he doesn't hear the tremble in my voice.

He’s suffering from head trauma and thinks I'm some chick named Poppy and has no idea where he is. Or... or he's straight-up mad.

I can almost hear his smile as he says, "Sure you are. Poppy."

Yep, definitely mad.

**

THE GRIND OF METALagainst metal snaps me awake. Through the sleep clouding my eyes, I see the door swing open. A man in fatigues stomps closer, his sole focus—me. The dirt scrapes and digs into my palms as I shuffle across the ground away from the approaching man. This scene isn't any different than other mornings, but then again, it is. What if they know I'm the one the man next to me was here to save? If they’ve realized who I really am, this morning might be my last.

My back slams against the rough wood of the far wall. With nowhere else to escape, trapped in the corner of this stupid crumbling piece-of-shit shed, my head twitches back and forth in an unnatural movement, hoping the man will accept my reluctance and leave.

No such luck.

Yellow and brown teeth glisten in the morning light as he bends over. Thin fingers wrap around my arm and squeeze. I clamber to stand on trembling legs to keep my shoulder from being pulled out of its socket as he yanks me toward the door.

A raspy voice calls out from my new neighbor’s side. "Pick on someone your own size, would ya?"

I turn to search for the owner of the voice. Through the slats, my eyes lock with angry, dark brown ones.

"Hey," he yells again, pushing up to stand but crumbling to the ground once more.

The man holding me laughs. And just like I feared, this morning isn’t the same.

Instead of being pulled toward the river for laundry, or the makeshift kitchen on the other side of camp, we walk three feet to the right. A guard unlocks the man in black’s door and swings it open. Something hard slams between my shoulder blades, and I stumble deeper into the small space. Another shove before I've regained my balance and I’m falling forward. My hands and knees slam into the dirt, only for me to be hauled back so only my knees press into the dust.

Calm, steady footsteps sound at my back. Deliberate, commanding footsteps.

I need to be strong, have some semblance of courage, but it's too much. All of this. First only quiet tears trickle down my cheeks, but when the large ominous shadow encroaches, I lose it. Now an all-out sobbing mess, I train my gaze to the ground below my knees. I can’t watch what’s about to happen.

It’s either his death or mine. Why else would they make such a show like this?

If I get to choose, I want it to be mine. Damn, I hope it’s mine. To end this. End it all now. Take me out of my misery. Not only the misery of being in this shitty situation I walked into, but the second-by-second misery that has consumed every thought and moment since Destiny left me. Since Mom left me.

I wasn't enough. I gave them everything, always put their needs before my own, and it wasn’t enough.

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