There are several abandoned parts of town, remnants of the past wars that are yet to be torn down. There is one in particular that Zach and I went to when we were children, a place we'd both go to escape our retched families. The city is changing and developing every day so it's guaranteed to be hard to find things from 10 years ago - if it's even there at all. It was a derelict house that looked like it had been through the runner, possibly raided years ago when it had been home to a family.

I remember us playing hide and seek in there and we'd draw on the walls with crayons. I should have brought him with me... I'm sure he hasn't been here in a long time.

I stroll down Henry Way and spot the house in the distance. I'm particularly careful in this part of town because you never know who could be lurking in the shadows, especially at night. And being the small girl I am, I would be an easy target to anyone. The fact that the government is wanted dead at the moment doesn't really help my case either. But that, my friends, is why I carry a blade on me at all times.

Ever since that night, I haven't gone anywhere without it.

***

I stand at the edge of the driveway and stare at the house, soaking in all of the fond memories I have here. There's not much to remember about my childhood but Zach always got me through it, we got each other through everything. We met when we were children - my father was having a work party and we were all civil at the time so our neighbouring sectors were invited. Zach was in Sector 86 so it was rare that we would ever see each other.

Power should never be given to the people that want it, no matter their intentions and that is one of the many reasons why I hate my father. All he is is power-hungry and he doesn't care what he has to do to make people fear him and win that power.

He is a lot like Colton in that way... I can tell that Colton likes seeing people on the edge of their seats when he walks in the room and he takes pleasure in knowing people are frightened of him.

In the corner of my eye, I spot the once fully bloomed tree that we used to climb. I walk over to the tree that is now snapped in half and touch my fingers to the trunk.

Z + R

I can't help but laugh at how cheesy we were when we were younger, cheesy but sweet. Life was so easy when we were younger, we didn't know about the cruel people that lurk the earth. The cruel people that actually turned out to be our parents. Maybe the rebels are right... the government is corrupt but I don't agree with them taking over.

Climbing through the window, I am welcomed with a damp smell and the building crumbling before me. I can't say I was expecting it to be in top condition but I didn't think it would have deteriorated this much. It really has been long since I have been here. The once white walls are now brown and soggy, the once wooden floors are now broken and mouldy.

I sink to the floor and let everything out... everything that has been building up in me for as long as I can remember. My father would always scold me when I would cry and tell me I was weak but he's not here now to remind me.

I clamp my hand over my mouth to not draw any attention to myself and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of my chest. Everything that has been pushing me down and invading my thoughts, I can finally let flow out of me through my tears.

This is what I have always wanted, what I have only ever asked for in my entire life. To cry and not have to hide it, to feel how I want to feel and not have to justify it.

Such a human, simple thing but something that can be so easily denied.

***

Before I know it the sun is rising over the rooftops - a sign of a new day, new beginnings... a sign of hope.

My body is dry of tears, my eyes swollen. I haven't a clue what time it is or how long I have been kneeling on this rotten floor. I need to get back to the facility but my whole body feels heavy like I am bound to the floor by chains and weights. I'm freezing and have been the whole night, the wind blew through the open windows in gusts and a shiver never ceased to run through me with each breath.

I inhale and exhale deeply, my breath clouding in front of me.

My knees wobble as I stand and it takes me a second to get rid of the numbness that fills them. It's a rather long walk back but I can use the time to think and collect my thoughts before returning.

As I climb out of the window, a shard of glass cuts my arm and I wince. It was only a graze but the pain is there nonetheless.

I take a deep breath before continuing, willing myself to forget about the stinging in my forearm.

***

The sun had fully risen when I reached the fire exit door that I walked out of last night. The sky now filled with a wonderful golden glow. A gust of warmth hits my face as I pull open the door, hugging my body, and I have never been more thankful to be inside.

I hadn't realised how cold it was, how cold I was.

Everyone gives me strange looks as I walk down the corridor, towards my bedroom, but all I can do is pin my eyes to the floor. To shield me from the judgment in their eyes. I don't blame them though... I would probably stare too if I saw a girl, who looked like a walking corpse, wearing clothes stained with blood walking casually down the corridor.

As soon as I am through the door of my bedroom, I take off my dirtied and bloodied clothes.

"Woah... at least let me take you to dinner first," my head snaps up and I see Colton laying on my bed - on his back and holding himself up by his elbows. He is in his usual attire of a black suit with a smirk plastered onto that annoyingly beautiful face of his.

Usual me would cuss him out and grab my clothes to cover myself but I don't feel like usual me today. I don't have the time nor the energy to argue with him. I walk into my wardrobe, wearing only my undergarments, and I get some pyjamas out and some fresh underwear. I can feel his eyes burning into me but I ignore him and act like he isn't there.

"The silent treatment is it?" his voice cuts through the silence and I walk into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. What did I do to deserve this? Is there something I have done so horribly wrong to have a guy tear me apart and my entire life in the process that I am unaware of?

I strip down and stand under the cascade of warm water - making sure I do not get my neck wet. The water turns pink at my feet as the blood is scrubbed from my body. I hiss in pain as the hot water flows down my wound, my arm seething in pain.

The shower did wonders in making me feel more alert and awake.

I get changed into some fresh clothes, my eyes burning from pure sleep deprivation.

I made sure I took my precious time in hopes that Colton would be gone when I got out.

***

I open the door and sigh in relief when I find that Colton isn't in my room anymore until I hear someone in my wardrobe. You have got to be kidding me. There Colton is with his hands in my underwear draw. I storm over to him and snatch the pair of underwear out of his hands before stuffing them back in the drawer and closing it.

"What are you doing?" I say and cross my arms. I have to physically crane my neck to look at him properly - which of course doesn't help the healing process of the stab wound he put there.

"Where'd you go last night?" Colton answers with another question, surprise. Both his hands are on either side of my body, placed on the top of the dresser, blocking me in. What is his profound obsession with cornering me all the time, if it's to intimidate me then it's not working.

If anything it's just pissing me off.

"Why does it concern you?" I fire back and his jaw twitches, telling me his patience is running thin. I'm glad we've found some common ground.

"Because if I am in charge of you, then I can't have you running around and leaving whenever you feel like it," Colton moves closer to me and I can hear my pulse in my ears. "I don't really feel like dealing with your father when you turn up dead," he snarls in my ear. He is so close to me that if I moved even an inch our bodies would be touching.

"I'm glad you don't want me dead," I say mirroring his smirk. I know he'd love to kill me but when there's a chance to piss him off, only a fool would ignore the opportunity.

"Oh, believe me, I would love nothing more than to drive a knife into that beautiful body of yours and watch you bleed to death," his voice is low and raspy next to my ear and I know I should fight back, push him away from me but I don't. My hatred for him runs so deep that I can't think straight around him... it clouds my judgement and poisons my thoughts.

I think irrationally and I can't help it.

"There's nothing stopping you," I say breathlessly. I'm not wrong... my father probably wouldn't give one if I got killed. He'd turn a blind eye and probably get someone to deal with my body as he did with my mother. He had never told me how she had died and I still don't know to this day. The memories of seeing her lifeless body at the ripe age of thirteen flood my mind and I push Colton away. He stumbles a little but regains composure.

"Now what would be the fun in that? I haven't made your life a living hell yet... I don't want to stop the fun early," his eyes are filled with so many different things that it's impossible to work out what he is feeling or to figure out what's going on behind those evergreen eyes.

They're too beautiful to belong to such a monster.

"You know what you are?" I spit, my anger spiking from him finding humour in this. I want to call him every name under the sun and show him the ugly personality he obtains that he seems to be so blind to.

"You are a ruthless, inhuman, callous monster. You have no regard for others, you are... god there's not even enough words to describe what a horrible person you are. I hate you, I hate you so much it's hard to bre-" he cuts me off by putting his hand around my neck and my back hits the dresser.

"Are you done telling me what a monster I am? How you hate me? Cause I think you are," he growls and puts pressure on the wound he inflicted on me. The pain is excruciating and I have to find the strength to not give him the satisfaction he wants of seeing me in pain. I reach to the back of my leggings then realise I don't have the knife on me. "I'll keep a hold on that knife of yours," he whispers.

My chest constricts at the idea of him having my knife. Not because I fear him using it on me but because it's the last thing my mother left for me. But I only started carrying it everywhere I went when I was thirteen. After that night, I knew I needed something to protect myself with... even if it was a dagger that I couldn't bear the thought of using on someone.

I try to see if I can find it anywhere. On the floor? On the bed? In the suit jacket he was wearing? But I couldn't see it anywhere.

"Don't worry... I had the chance of hiding it very well," he laughs to himself as if it is the greatest idea he has ever thought of.

I wouldn't be surprised if it was with how thick in the head he is.

"Get out," I say with less conviction than I planned. "Get out!" I shout and he applies even more pressure to my neck and presses himself against me before saying.

"With pleasure... love" he releases his hold on me before storming out of the room.

A few seconds later the door slams, signalling his absence.