Paytah

The last thing I can remember was the syringe being jabbed into my neck. I wake up, rubbing the tendon spot on my neck, but I hear the jingling on my wrists and see cuffs. I try to burn them, but it does nothing. I then check my surroundings. I'm sitting on the hard cement floor, in a small cube like room, maybe only a 5ft by 6ft. The only light in the cold and uncomfortable room is the small lightbulb hanging by a wire. It flickers constantly, making the room flicker along with it. There's no windows, only a dark grey cement all over. The door is thick, with no light whatsoever coming in.

I stand up, a sore feeling in my body. I walk to the door, which only takes about two steps. I push on it with my cuffed hands and burn it, but it does nothing.

"Hey!" I yell, kicking the door. My voice echoes throughout the small contained room.

But the door opens.

I immediate decide I'm going to burn whoever walks though this door...

But my mother was ready.

Before the fire can reach her, she sprays out so much water that I fly back into the concrete, my head slamming into it. I find myself laying on the ground, stunned and confused. I look up and see my mother staring at me with no emotion whatsoever. I lift up my cuffed hands again, but she lets out another gush of water. It fills up into my nose and I let out a cough, water and blood going out with it. Knowing that trying to fight her would be pointless, I sit against the wall and look up at her.

I didn't realize she was holding some sort of metal rod about three feet long, but once she sees me looking at it she starts to toss it back and forth between her hands.

"Why'd you do it?" She asks calmly, her eyes rested on me.

"Do what?" I ask.

I close my eyes when the rod comes swinging at my jaw. I cry out when it hits, and my face smacks the floor. Just that one hit makes me gasp for air.

"Get up." She orders.

I grab hold of the wall for balance and slide up, slightly touching my jaw. It's already swelled, the pain is horrific. Right when I stand up straight and look at her, she raises the rod again and smacks my stomach. I lean over, gritting my teeth and trying to stay up, but another hit to my cheek knocks me back down.

"Get up!" She yells.

Oh fuck you.

But I do. I get up, spitting out blood as I go. I lean against the wall, once again raising my eyes to her.

"I had no choice." I finally spit out.

"Oh, but you did. I watched you on tv, you had a choice. You didn't have to do what Hanson said-"

"He would've killed us-"

"And what's better!" She suddenly yells so loud my heart beats even faster. "Four kids dead? Or thousands of innocent lives?"

"You don't get it, he would've captured others-"

The rod hits my ribs and I cry out. I fall to my knees, covering my head when my mother slams the rod on my head again. Blood runs down the side of my face and the taste lingers in my mouth.

"You're ridiculous." I hear her mumble, but the pain is so bad I can't get up. I push my face into the ground, gasping and gasping and gasping. She hits me over and over, all over my body. Each hit makes me cry out, the blood is too overwhelming it makes me lightheaded.

I then feel her hand grab a chunk of my hair, and my face is pulled up to meet her eyes. The flickering light hurts my eyes, they are barely open. But she looks down at me, with my mouth hanging open, blood spilling out with a mixture of sweat on my face.

"To me," she says, pulling on my hair even harder I cringe, "the world is worth more than you four. And they'll probably come here, right where I want them."

I can't fight, but I can sure still be pissed.

"You won't lay a fucking hand on them. Fuck you."

She laughs. "And who is going to prevent me from doing so? You?"

I'm choking on my own blood, but still manage to answer.

"Yes, me. You wanna know why?"

She keeps her grip on my hair, but doesn't react, doesn't say a word.

"Because I'm used to suffering. After being taken from my family, having five foster parents, and being a fucking test subject. I know what this feeling is like."

Again, no answer.

"So thanks for the shit you put me through. You might have just saved my life."

She holds my face so hard I can't duck away from the rod swinging at my face. It smacks my cheek, and all I can see is black. I feel myself hit the cement again, an odd sound making its way out of me.

Just blackout already.

I lay still, for some reason my mind switches. I picture the others coming to get me. I picture my mother doing to them what she's doing to me.

They can't come.

I told Aira not to, but knowing her I doubt she listened. My only hope is for maybe Lana. Hopefully she'll get some sense in her to stay away, that one death is better then four.

The swing of the rod gets me back into reality. I'm trying to crawl...away, in the corner I guess. There's nowhere to go, nothing to do about it...

Just like when my mother gave me away.

Tears flow out of my eyes as each hit pierces my tender skin. I cry out at each swing, sob as the pain grows. All of these years I feared my mother, hated my mother.

But she's still my mother.

After a hard hit to my hip, I cry out. I hate myself for feeling vulnerable, but my mind takes over, and I speak.

"Mom!" I sob, pushing my head into my arms, the cuffs digging into my flesh. Everything aches, blood runs down from my head all the way to the cement floor.

But she stops. In fact, she's silent.

I then hear her heels clicking, and the door opens and then slams.

I push myself up, but fall back down again. I'm fighting to stay conscious, but I lay my head down, trying to give in, trying to throw away the pain.

As I take my last few breaths, I realize that my mother isn't the only one with power.

Because I have just as much. She's still my mother, I'm still her kid. There has to be something there, something that'll keep me alive.

And I think I found her soft spot.

••••••

Hello!!!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)

Sorry I haven't been posting, it's a busy summer! But please still vote and comment!

-thank you!