Lindsey Marking
#7

          Waking up hit me like a brick in the face.  Maybe it was because that everything in my head was everything I wanted.  Maybe it was because everything in my head occurred at a place away from here.  All those dreams and hopes disappear with one blink of an eye.  Now, reality clutters my vision.  A reality that ruins even the strongest of people.

          I look around to find nothing different: the same metal slab they call a bed, white metal walls, and a metal door with no openings to see a place outside of this cell.  I don't think anything will ever change.  I don't think the people will ever change my cell, or change the color of the walls.  They'll never show any emotion, or have a face to face real conservation without any lies.  These are all things I wish could happen, but never will.  Maybe I should add an "escape out of this place" to the list.  Maybe make it number one.  I don't know though, the paint color of the walls could change everything.

          I look down at myself to find the same white blonde hair highlighted with red strands curled in gorgeous waves.  My dull blue eyes survey the room.  Are my eyes blue?  I haven't seen a mirror in so long.  Maybe I assume that they are blue because it's the prettiest version of myself that I can picture.  White blonde and red hair with blue eyes, a skinny waist with nice curves.  A pale skin tone to emphasize my hair color.  Cherry red lips to stand out. However, that's all in my head.  I have no clue what I look like, except what my hair looks like.  It's so long, I don't even need to turn my head to see how it looks.  I think my hair reaches to about my bottom waist now.

          "Lindsey Marking, please report to room two hundred one.  Thirty-five and twenty-five,"  a voice over the speaker rings out.  I have no clue why they state those numbers after each announcement, but I choose to ignore them and prepare myself for the horror ahead.  My door clicks open with a loud sound of metal scraping against metal.

          Before I could move a muscle, another announcement rings overhead.  "Andrew Picket, please report to room two hundred one.  Thirty-five and twenty-five."  If I'm correct, I think that's the room I'm supposed to go to.  Thank god it's a battle, I love those.

         I ignore my internal thoughts as I heave myself up and slouch towards the door.  In the beginning, I used to fight and run; but now, the fight has left me.  They have broken my spirit down piece by piece, hoping to get me to this state.  Goal accomplished.

          As I round the corner to see outside my room, I spot Andrew walking in my direction. Turning around to walk to the room, I scoff and roll my eyes.

"Lindsey! Come on! Wait up. We both have to go to the same room,"  Andrew points out as if I haven't pieced that together.

"I know we have to go to the same room, but that doesn't mean we are now bestie besties because if it," I say, chalk full of sarcasm.

"Come on! Don't be like that," Andrew says, picking up his pace so he could walk with me.

"Like what?" I question, rolling my eyes in the process.

"Like you have to fight everyone at every second of the day. You can't be on guard all the time," Andrew smiles. It's the smile is gives out when he is trying to empress or flash, but I have no clue why.

"Andrew, we have nothing in common, so why do you seem to think that we know each other like brother and sister?" I ask with a hint of annoyance in my tone.

"We have gone through the same things, Lindsey. Doesn't that count for something?" Andrew asks, voice full of hope.

"We have not gone through the same things, Andrew. Just because we live in the same building does not mean we have experienced the same things," I snap, trying to hide the up coming emotions.

"Lindsey," Andrew says hard and firm, stopping in his tracks. This gesture causes me to stop as well. "Lindsey, I know you have lost a lot. I know you have experienced the hardest of things, but don't you dare take this out on me. I am not the enemy. I am just saying that we both have become test subjects to be used like rag dolls at any time that they seem fit. We are slaves here. That's what I'm saying that we have in common, not the struggles we have faced." Andrew takes a deep breath and walks forward, leaving me behind to bathe in his harsh words.

I heave a deep breath, shoulders rising. I exhale, shoulders lowering. I ignore what he says, hoping that he is just in a mood. I turn on my heals, walking to the room. My bare feet pad along the metal flooring, making soft thuds every time I take a step. No one else roams the hall except Andrew and I. He walks about fifteen paces ahead of me, head held high, posture picture perfect.

Andrew rotates to his right and walks into a door, two hundred one I assume. When I reach the door, I find that I am correct in my assumption of the room number. I walk in with the same posture as Andrew, clearly putting off a confident vibe. I force a thin and flat smile when I see who else joined the party. My caretaker. Fun.

Her ginger hair is pulled up in a flirty curly ponytail as her uniform is pressed perfectly without any wrinkles. I take note that Andrew's caretaker is here as well. Her uniform not so neatly pressed. Probably, doesn't take the job as seriously.

"Lindsey, so nice of you to join us," my caretaker smiles innocently.

"Lovely day to be a slave," I say back, raising my eyebrows.

"You shouldn't think of it like that," she says as if it was a prerecorded response.

"How else should I think of it? I was taken against my will!" My anger rages through my body like the water in wild rapids. My voice rises with each word. My tone as sharp as a whip as it slices the air.

"We were helping you," the caretaker states like it was a fact of life, not an opinion.

"Helping me? Helping me?! You son of a-" I am interrupted mid sentence as Andrew clamps his hand on my mouth.

"You should have gotten more sleep, sweetie," he says, gesturing with his eyes to play along. I get the gimmick and go along with it. I make my eyelids droop and my body sag in posture. My body become so relaxed that I fall. However, on quick reflexes, Andrew cushions my fall using his gravity manipulation powers. He changes the gravity under me, pushing me right into his arms.

"When she is on little amounts of sleep, she acts as if she's a bit irritable and bitchy. Not too much up there if you know what I mean," Andrew snuffles a snicker as he gestures towards my head.

The caretaker rolls her eyes and crossed her arms, clearly not believing it. "Well, if you find a way to wake her up a bit more, feel free to do it," she grumbles. Andrew releases a sly grin.

          "You know what?"  I say, acting a bit more energetic.  "I'm feeling a bit better." 

          "Okay, I'll give you guys two minutes before you have to start,"  the caretaker allows.

          I walk over to a wooden bench that lies on the wall.  Andrew follows me all the way.  Once I sit down, Andrew immediately knows that I'm done acting.

          "What the hell?  What the hell was that?! No too much up there?!"  I am livid.  This is clearly not okay.

          "I need to tell you something," Andrew says in such a serious voice, I stop being mad at him, just curious.

          "Well, what is it?"

          "You need to win the battle against Jess tomorrow,"  Andrew says.

"Well, duh? But why are you rooting for me?"

"Well, I really want you to win. What's the big deal?" Andrew asks, voice raising.  Wow, he's such a bad liar.

"Andrew, please tell me what's going on. I know you want me out of the competition. Wait, how do you know that the battles are going on tomorrow?"

"Okayyyy," Andrew stretched out.  "Today is not the day we should fight.  Anilia spoke to me.  She used her telepathy to speak to me.  She read Daisy's mind.  Daisy read the future and saw how we will escape.  It's in a week. Lindsey.  It's in a week!"  Andrew speaks excitedly.

          "Anilia?  Why would she talk to you?  Of all people? Wait, so why does winning help us escape?"  I question with narrowed eyes.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," Andrew says before my caretaker tells us that our time is up. 

          "Good luck,"  I cockily smile.  Today we're are going to push how far our abilities can go.  Andrew won't last long; I know that for a fact.