Bloody Hands

My eyes opened into the blinding light of the sun. It was beautiful. For that second, I remembered nothing. For that second, I pretended everything was fine and I would be okay.

But that only lasted a second.

"Wake up, sleepy head." Liam's eyes met mine and immediately my fist came out to his face, knocking him onto the ground. I saw a blue zip-up tent, the gorgeous blue sky, and the green grass. My eyes were out of focus, so when a fist flew to my face, I did not realize it until the impact hit and my heat slammed against the ground. My eyes blurred and the sky because just a fuzzy blue. It took me more than a couple of seconds to come to my senses, and when I did, I wish I hadn't.

Liam was bloodied, his eye had several cuts, and there was blood all over his white shirt. There were chunks of something I cannot identify. The sight of that cause my throat to build up and a disgusting taste hit my mouth, and it came out quickly.

"For god's sake, you've been tortured, and now you throw up? Bullshit."

I narrowed my eyes at him and said, "Waking up to see chunks of whatever on your shirt is not exactly the sight I want to see."

His grin came across his face, surprisingly attractive, which my brain could not help but see. I tried to get it out, but it just stayed.

"Where are we?" I asked, a bit dazed at the plain surroundings.

"Uh, yeah, as if I would tell you something like that." His eyes shifted down, and he stayed like that for a while.

"You're helping us." He said, his expression not flirty or friendly as it used to be. He likes me. Yet he tortures me and makes me work. I stared into the ground, almost crying, reminding myself who I am and where I am.

"Helping you?" My voice shakes. I can't do this. If I help, I'm killing my country. And if I don't, I die. But what's the purpose of living? How will I be able to sleep at night with haunting thoughts of this in my mind?

Rocket fast, a knife comes out of his pocket and to my throat. I breathe deeply. I'm okay. I'm fine. I let my heart rate steady. I'm dying a hero. I have to be.

"Go ahead, kill me." I say. My voice is stronger and I feel confident. I know what has to be done. I'm not afraid. And I want to go. Slip away slowly looking into the deep blue sky. Go with my parents. With Angelina. End it all. The pain will be gone. My fear will erase.

"I can do so many worse things to you," he said, with a grin that can't be described.

I close my eyes, and I open them slowly. "Please." My voice is shaky and pained. My heart beats fast, and I don't want this. I want to live.

My mind couldn't register as he pulled out a needle with green liquid and injected me.

The liquid bubbled in my skin. It felt hot and I cried out. My vision was blurry. It was burning and bubbly inside of me.

I saw my mother. "Let go, Sasha. I love you. You're a hero." Tears poor from my face as I stare at her.

"I can't," I say. "I have to beat this. All of it. Live to be 100. Tell the story."

She stretched her hand out.

And then it hit me.

This is making me fight. If I grab her hand, I will be happy. No more pain, torture or violence. All of it will be happy. Peaceful. With my family. I'll die.

And if I don't, I will survive. Be tortured. Try to run. Hurt more.

The hot, bubbling pain in my arm seemed like nothing as I stared into my mothers eyes.

"No." I say, eyes beginning to burn from tears. "I can't."

Black fills my sight. My whole body hurts, and I see something. Red and beating. I feel my skin and under burn with hot pain. I cringe, but stare into the heart.

"Stab it," a voice calls. The voice is unfamiliar.

"No." My response is weak.

"STAB IT!"

"NO!" my voice becomes strong and I get up and run into the endless blackness.

My whole body burns and then I see it.

A door.

I open the door into a blinding light.

I see Angelina.

My heart beats so fast and I cannot form words. I just stare at her in complete shock.

"It's time to go, Sasha. There's nothing left."

I just stand there, staring at her.

"Sasha. It's not a debate. Your body hurts. You're slowly going insane from the torture. You become more unstable everyday. It's time to leave this world. You've done so much...survived this long. If you go now, everything will go away. I've seen you. I died early. I saw you grieve. I saw your pain. It's done. You win. You finished this. All you have to do is walk with me."

Is everything really over? Am I done? Done fighting? Will this be the end?

No.

I feel my body lift up, and I am back.