The Crowds

The Crowds

I couldn’t begin to understand this mishap. It baffled me to no extent. Jane was just a little child with golden, curly hair and dark green eyes. They shouldn’t have ignored her pleas. They should have stopped right away and let her go, but they didn’t. Now my most recent and possibly last memory I have of her is her thin, pale arms extended towards me, and her thin lips turned down, slightly twitching. She had always tried to be a brave, little girl. She would never cave in public. God, I loved and missed her.

I didn’t know what to do with myself. I tried to talk to people about it, but they just looked away, shaking their heads. Nobody could have missed such an incident. I shouldn’t have given up. I should have grabbed them, shook them, anything to make them confess. I had failed her, my dear Jane.

Now I know what I need to do. No matter what happens, I can’t stop trying, because the moment I do, they win my Jane, and I lose the very meaning in my life. I cannot lose, and I will not lose. They can capture and then torture me, mutate my body with whatever instruments they possess, but I will keep on. There’s no question to it.

This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. The last person who tried to speak up was shot on scene. Their head exploded from the shot, creating somewhat a bubble of blood, then, just as a firecracker, exploded into a blinding vision of bones and skin. It’s a gruesome thought, but it keeps me on edge, just as Speed would. This whole idea, plan, whatever the hell it is has somehow become my own drug. All of this makes me feel sick to my stomach. Every single thought, in fact.

When I take that first step into the crowd of cold eyes and wicked faces, I will be taking the first step towards my grave. I will not have a single thought of regret, and I will not shake with fright. I will shake with fury. Until I see those golden curls and dark green eyes, and those thin lips turn up, nothing will stop me.