POV- Girl who thought she'd be taken out of this world

"I thought I'd be taken somewhere out of this world." I look up to look into his eyes the first time that evening. I wonder when will he realize I'm not a withdrawn victim. I see him reading into me, reading what isn't really there.

I change everything. No, I changed everything.

The investigator, in disbelief starts with his words, questions raining. It's cold, and in response, I go cold. I can't hear the soft taps, I have distanced myself from language. Every rain could become a flood, every breath a hurricane, and my eye sees in the middle of it all. Was my explanation not enough? Does it not make sense? Why ask me unrelated questions? Now that I have finally learned to speak my language, it's on you to listen.

His hands slam down, he takes his frustration on innocent objects and no one questions that. It's his role. His emotions are somehow justifiable despite the fact that he's the one who is supposed to keep his cool. He isn't the only one breaking the rules; I am guilty too, but my sins are unforgivable. Even though I can't help them, even though I am them.

Here's the problem with this world. They do understand but choose not to. And I've always understood them but chose not to. I thought I'd grow up and my vision would weaken and id be not seeing them anymore. But that is a lie. And I'm tired of lies. We all are. What can never happen is and was happening to me, and just because of that, I was expected to explain. Explain when I don't understand myself. I grew tired.

So I had to find another world.
But I've been rejected by the only other world I know.
That only left me one option, to go out of all these worlds into whatever beyond.

"Does that mean you willingly joined them?!" His voice is in an angered state of euphoria, angry because he has to, euphoric because he is.
"I never joined, I just free loaded." The world moves slow for self-concerned people.

But it's true. When presented with the opportunity of huddling with the rest of the civilians and riding a motorcycle with a suspicious unknown into another unknown, both held the 50-50 chance of life and death.

But the motorcycle seemed so sturdy. The masked figure so calm, the seat behind him so open.

I thought I'd be taken somewhere out of this world.

**********

The bars slide smoothly over their tracks. The bench is more disgusting than I thought it would be. The officer sneers at me because he is tired of his job and he can't take it out on his wife and boring daughter. He thinks I'm the reason his job exists, conveniently forgetting he's the one who chose it. My hands are finally shackled, but I can't tell because I'd have them in the same position even if they weren't.

Some people were murderers, some were innocent, and some were victims of too many taxes or loans. I don't know into which category I fit. I'm miscellaneous I guess. The good thing is that we all share one thing in common. We all sat here one day. I lean against the wall and start exploring the graffiti. I WANNA BE FREE is scratched in. How creative. I hoped it would be more interesting.

That's another thing all these people might have had in common. They all probably wanted something, maybe even wanted to be something. Hmm, can I continue to be similar to them? What do I want to be? I want to be so many things, but at the same time, none at all. I can't be one thing, and I'm not unique enough to run around without a label.

I think I want to be everything. No, that would mean that I'd have to lead a long, dragging life. I want to be everything at once. I want to be all I want to be in the same time and instant.

I pick at the metal piece near my jeans pocket. It has the brand name on it, but I think I just found a better use for it. I add my own want to the list. i want to be everything at once. It takes more time than I expected, but it only seems fair. No one from the miscellaneous category seems to have carved anything yet, and it makes me feel excluded. Now I belong.

*******

I wake up to the realization that I have fallen asleep. The two contradicting thoughts swim in my head as I try to dive my way into consciousness. What's the use of waking up and realizing that you slept? They just equate to zero in the end. I wonder why my head even bothers pursuing such line of thought. I'd rather not be able to tell the difference between dreams and awake. Mind doesn't allow me to do that though with all its contradicting water. What a stubborn mind.

I continue carving my want deeper into the prison cell wall. It looks too fresh, not vintage enough to blend in. Just as I was debating changing my lower case 'i' into a capital one to look more professional, a guard walks in and hauls me out angrily. I take a look at his appearance. He is young, dark haired, fox-eyed. He looks too much of an actor to be a real cop. I wonder where in his story is he. First day of work? Taking in his father's wish? Looking for a girl that went missing due to the recent attack? Seeking an uprising against someone in an upper position?

His dragging becomes less aggressive. I try to study him more to figure out. There is a soft femininity to his features that makes him so delicate and yet manages to emphasis his other manly elements. I give up thinking about where he is in his current story and try to figure out a back story.

His hair is quite thick but kept short, either went to military service recently and shaved his head or too straight cut for his age. I feel like drugs and liquor are out. Hmm, no visible scars, and can't tell how much muscles he has, but he isn't too buff. He'd look good wearing black...

********

So just when I thought came out with perfect back story, he threw me off. I had already decided that he moved into this town when he was fifteen because his mother didn't want him to spend the rest of his life in the country side. He had managed to build himself a lifestyle that's pretty impressive. He can cook quite well, sucks at electronics, and works hard, but not hard enough to stand out. He also chose to become a policeman because he wants to do good things for the world and himself. He is planning to move into a city with high crime rate and slowly slip his way around detective work. He also was very interested in a very unique specific field but had an injury that stopped him from pursuing it, and one day his extensive knowledge of the field will help him out with a crime. Hmm wait no scratch that, let's say that he wanted to travel to a city with high crime rate and study there but he has some sort of trauma/phobia of something. Blood? No, too uncool for his personality. He has a fear of...of... of...

At that point I started inspecting him hoping for some inspiration when I realized that we were leaving the station and that the lights have been turned off. I thought, well, the organization might have got the station and he was smart enough to figure out an escape plan. But then he put me in the passenger seat of a black family car and put on my seatbelt (safety first?) then got in. And I thought, hmm well, he's working alone? At this point I started getting annoyed because he started doing all sorts of things that ruined his perfect backstory. He took off his officer shirt to reveal a black shirt and dog tags. As far as I'm concerned, every "cool" person in this country wears a dog tag except the very people they are meant for.

"Seriously, dog tags?" I sigh as he starts speeding

He just flashes me a look. I catch an emotion in his eye. Nervous. So uncool. I keep staring until he gets uncomfortable and tries to check if I'm watching him from the side of his eye. I just give him a disappointed eyebrow raise and turn to my side window. I feel re-energized.

I don't know where we are going but I like the feel of this. The lights outside are colorful and they stretch out behind us. The moon is following us as fast as it can. His driving is not bad, it's smooth and even and just the perfect speed. At least he got one thing right, because I'd never picture him as a motorcycle guy.

"Do you know where we are going?"

No reply.

"I'd like it to be somewhere far, faaaaaaar away, so this drive can just go on forever."

Still no reply. His eyes have a mixture of confusion now.

I like this very much. I like staying silent when I'm supposed to speak. And speaking when I'm supposed to be quiet.

Okay, maybe that's a lie.

Because the things that aren't possible could become possible anytime now...

I remember how the car's wheels rolled over my body. How my skull caved into my brain. How I almost forgot all about that in the mess of consistency. My mood drops low.

I had gotten so used to living a certain way that now habits have incorporated themselves into my personality. My personality. My head. It never stops. I know why killers chase for revenge from those who captured them. Because it never stops, it leaks into my blood stream. I can't control it. I need to preserve my feelings of shock and horror in order to remain a human being. Why am I so bad at being a human being?

My fist shivers within my hand.

"YAAGH" a shout rips from within me and I kick at the dashboard. My body shakes as the shackles constrain my hands. The shackles I forgot about. Just like I forget about-

I let my head fall down. My breaths come out heavy. My eyes sting. I bite down hard on my lips, what's left of them.

I'm in my own time zone, my own kind of darkness.

"You... okay?" his voice works out. It's just the right pitch.

"Yeah" but I don't raise my head.

My low mood is exhausting to be in.

Even free, I'm shackled.

I fall asleep that way.

**********

And awake.
Thankfully, my brain spares me the thoughts that circle around the realization of falling asleep.
I'm just awake.
And sad.

Nostalgic towards the end of the car ride.

Nostalgic towards the empty seat of that officer, or whatever he is supposed to be.

After that voice, I'm not giving up on my back story so easy.

But now that the car ride has ended, I have nothing more to do. I'm out of tricks and out of the will to find them.

I don't feel uncomfortable.

The windows are down and we are around a train station.

It's still night and that reassures me. The night is still here, the fun is not over.

I allow myself to smile, but the second my smile stretches fully, I just feel melancholic once again.

My breath forms a sigh and I drift in dream like thoughts, my eyes almost closed, but not really planning to sleep.

After what seems like a while I see the officer and a likewise dressed friend approach the car. It takes me a moment to realize its reality. By that time, the friend had already banged on my door.

"Enjoyed your beauty sleep, princess?" his official name is now Asshole. Who uses a stereotypical line like that? However, I don't hate his attitude, Officer needs a bit of that personality type in order to suit his backstory.

I yawn and mumble in reply.

"Okay, get out." He opens my door aggressively.

I'm too comfortable to get out...

"Now" he pulls harshly at my blanket and I hold tightly to it. He's stronger than he looks and he manages to pull a burrito version of me out.

The blanket falls and I'm unable to wrap it around my shoulders with the shackles.

I hear an interesting click.

"I suggest you don't make this difficult." A smile creeps unto his face, he is posing perfectly too. The gun suits him. It's a difficult pose to pull, even Officer might not be able to do it.

He's unimpressed with my blank stare. He shoots at the ground to waste a bullet – or emphasize his point or whatever. The sound jolts me awake inside and my systems start powering through. My body doesn't betray me though – I don't flinch. Mind over logic.

"It's quite chilly, can you put the blanket over my shoulders?" I give him the I-was-just-a-burrito look but he doesn't seem to get it. He looks at officer and shrugs. Officer dusts the blanket down before putting it around my shoulders. They're not dumb, if I had anything in the blanket, it would've been found.

I also didn't miss the way Officer examined me while the other was threatening, it was a cool, calculated look. They aren't dumb or easy.

We walk across the tall bushes, crossing the train tracks and station, then walking beyond, the gun always close to my skull.

I liked the walk too. It was a long one, but our strides were more or less at an even pace, and the endless nowhere was beautiful.

And then the sun rose, and it rose in a way that made my heart warm. It wasn't an overdramatic rise, there was no excess of colors and overwhelming beauty. The sky simply started to light up with soft yellow light. The bushes and weeds around us looked like they were letting out a long held breath. The night chillness left and a warm kind of cold came over. The sky then simply turned a plain, breathtaking blue view as the sun fully awoke. The clouds were perfectly spaced.

Our paces slowed together. I could tell that they too thought it was an amorous moment that seemed unreal.

Then, a new dark came as I was blindfolded.

"Sorry buddy, but that's as far as you get to see."