Pariah

/pəˈrīə/

noun

an outcast

On my way back to my room many things were running through my head, like where we were going to train, how those teenagers were walking into a casket the moment they signed up to go on a raid, and how Luke just sat there the entire meeting with no emotion. Sure my heart was breaking in great amounts, but I had to suck it up for the good of everyone, I was not the only person hurting and I knew that.

My feet took me towards a room I had never been in, but I assumed it would be a good time to stop by since I had nothing better to do. It was filled with books, but none like any I had ever seen. All the books given to us in the observatory were white and only contained information about how to operate a computer and the systems required to care for your twin.

When I walked in, I was confronted by a glaring librarian behind the front desk. I immediately shrunk and tried to hide within myself under her cold gaze. Trudging, I made my way over to the fictional section and sat in the middle of the third aisle after picking up an old, odd looking book.

My back slightly slouched as I leaned back and my curiosity spiked as I read the title of the story. Beautiful lettering spelled out 'Wuthering Heights' on the plain cover only accompanied by what I assumed was the author's name. I opened the book to read as I observed my surroundings in the gray walled library only accompanied by burgundy decorations sparsely placed  throughout the entire room with very minimal white decor to match the few chairs littering the room.

As I read and lost myself within the characters, I found myself thinking of Luke when I saw anything concerning Heathcliff and Catherine and the power struggle of the two. My mind fought the urge to see Luke and apologize as I realized our fate could be like the main characters if we never worked out this fight, but then I remembered Luke's words.

"Melissa nothing's for certain in this world now." I remembered how pained his eyes looked as he said those words through gritted teeth with a glint of desperation hiding somewhere between the beauty of his blue eyes and his dilated pupils holding nothing but anger.

As I reached the part where Catherine dies, I couldn't take the comparisons anymore. My arms automatically slammed the book closed and threw it against the book shelf, causing a loud rumble of all the books as it rocks back and forth. Silently I prayed for the shelf to fall forward on me to cause this numb sensation I was feeling to be broken with pain. I leant back again when the shelf went back to standing soundly. My whole body ached as I shoved my hand through my hair, breathing slowly and trying desperately to contain the tears wanting to stream again.

I glanced over again to spot the librarian still glaring at me from under her wide glasses with disapproval permanently etched on her perfect, oval shaped face. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I rose from my seat slowly, letting my blonde hair encompass and hide my face as I headed up to the desk with the intriguing book in hand. As I went to ask her about taking it with me, she turned the other direction, as if she was disgusted with my existence.

"Do you have a problem with me or something?" I asked, genuinely confused by this act that she was having with me. She turned towards me and looked me in the eye for the first time since I had walked into the library.

"You think that you are so clever and important don't you?" she asked in the most menacing voice I had ever heard.

"Excuse me?" My voice betrayed me, cracking on the second syllable of my sentence. At this point, my brain was reeling with possibilities. Was this about what happened a few minutes ago in the Core meeting? Or was this about the surprise attack that I was apparently responsible for according to over half of the colony.

"You. The one girl Luke has cared about since he arrived here and when he tries to protect you, you run from him. You are one privileged child and you don't realize how much you are missing. Luke is a kind and sweet person and you can't put your bitchy antics aside for one moment to see that."

My eyes widened and I blanched while my mouth remained wide open, able to probably catch flies. How could she know about what happened between Luke and I? And how could she even know Luke well enough to call him a friend and know who he cared about? He was very reserved and almost never open to anyone.

"You have no right saying those things to me? And who are you to tell me how Luke feels and what he is like? You don't know what you are talking about right now," I tried to say evenly, but failed as my voice rose louder and louder as the sentence progresses.

"I was a person that cared about Luke," the green in her eyes blazed with anger as she spoke. Her brown hair caught the light and I assessed her looks thoroughly trying to determine if she was this Cynthia Rose the file that I found concerned. "But Luke was never into me so I gave up, and he let me because he couldn't care less. And you have everything I ever wanted in the palm of your hand, and you are oblivious to it!"

My eyes curiously gazed into hers. Could this be her? "You said you've known Luke since he came here?" I asked, my voice no longer holding anger, but only awe and wonder as I attempted to uncover the mystery girl whose name gave me chills every time I heard it. Does this girl hold a piece of Luke's heart that I never will?

"Yes," she answered, looking confused by my question. "How is that relevant?" Her voice quivered, obviously unnerved by my straight forward questions. Anger vanished from her eyes and was replaced with shock and a twinkle of hope.

"Are you Cynthia Rose?" I asked, my voice raising a bit in nervousness.

Her faces turned white as snow and her mouth gaped at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hand twitch and I didn't move fast enough to dodge her open hand coming into contact with my cheek. Stinging infected my whole face as the impact came in hard and fast. I gasped and held my hand to my now burning cheek as tears brimmed my eyes.

She held tears in her eyes too for a reason unbeknownst to me. Her petite finger wagged at me as she looked straight at me, her height even with mine thanks to her huge nude pumps.

"How dare you say that name! Do you think it's funny to go around waving around that you know Luke's past?!?" she spat at me in a whispered scream. Pain was evident in her features, but not the same as Luke's. This girl's pain was not nearly as the crumpling agony controlling the man I was desperately in love with.

"So you aren't her then?" I assumed, bracing myself for a second impact.

When one didn't come, I opened one of my eyes, confused by the change of mood. Her face looked confused and gentle, as if she just realized something. Her mouth was set into an 'oh' shape as realization flashed in her eyes.

"You really don't know who Cynthia is to Luke?" she whispered, wide eyed and shockingly gentle, almost as if she were scared to break me. The mood change shocked me as I stared at her before giving in and answering her question.

"No, I really don't. I found a file on her and I thought that since you obviously have a past and care about him, it may be you." I gave her a pointed look, still angry about the previous slap, which I didn't deserve. "But judging by your reaction, I am assuming she is someone of extreme importance to him?" I asked, extremely confused.

"Yes," she mumbled incoherently. Suddenly a lightbulb lit in her brain and she stared at me quizzingly. "You care about him?"

I blinked, scatterbrained from all of the subject jumps we've made. "Yes, I care about him," the words tumbled out without a second thought. "I just don't know if he wants me." The feeling of inferiority crept in as I stared at the floor before looking back at her, "and I don't blame him if he doesn't."

"Melissa...." her voice trailed off until she came back from her silent reverie, "if he goes through the trouble to explain how he is and why he is how he is, he cares about you. He has a funny way of showing it, but he does." Truth shimmered in her eyes as we bonded through our mutual care for the blonde haired boy; however, she seemed more nostalgic than I was of her feelings, relieving me slightly.

"But what about Cynthia? Is she some girl he is with officially?" The thought of Luke cheating was unbearable to me. Suddenly I felt possessive over him, thinking of him with another girl, holding her and treating her like a princess while I was twiddling my thumbs and waiting for him to come back to me.

She gave me a reassuring smile and picked up the book from the desk to hand to me. "He will tell you who she is in time, and what happened. In the meantime, it is not what you think. Just give him time to open up to you. He'll come around eventually."

I took the book from her with shaking hands and smiled for the first time since Luke and I parted ways, and I felt like a weight has been lifted from me. "What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Kiersten," she simply responded, smiling before walking away toward the shelves.

I left quickly after receiving her answer and made my way towards my room with a tiny amount of pep in my step for the first time ever. The feeling was good, and I knew that this is what relief felt like. For the first time in my life I had relief and closure that things would be alright.

However, when that feeling crept in the tiny voice in my mind reminded me of that power I felt only a few hours ago. The nagging in the mind kept telling me that the power I felt was what I craved, not a boy who could care less of my existence. The war felt endless as I sat in my bedroom, reliving the conversation with Kiersten and trying to determine the right choice for me.

Did I want Luke or my power of free will?