Defiance

  ***

  The morning was so damp and misty, day succeeded in breaking only with great difficulty. And as the day dawned, Amelia twisted in her bed, a gentle breeze suddenly floating into the stuffy basement.

  The sudden ruffling sound of the padlock awoke Amelia, to her dismay.

  “Training day.”

  She opened her eyes to find Elysia standing before her. Her smile, in spite of its sweetness, was a little too thin. A tinge of colour suddenly suffused her pale face and as she held the door open for Amelia, her eyes gleamed with excitement. Amelia looked at her this time without the stain of anger clouding her vision. She truly was a remarkably pretty girl—her hair too vibrant and her eyes too big for her face—her small ashen ankles dancing against the velvet dress she wore.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To practice in the arena, Angel,” Elysia said, without taking the trouble to conceal the irony of her tone. She walked swiftly past Amelia with the door ajar. Amelia wanted to feel remorse for this child, if she could call her that, but every time she tried, it was too difficult. She had always been slow to forgive, a trait abhorrent to her father. He had tried so hard to make her forgive as a child, and had failed too many times to count.

  One by one, each of the members walked out of his or her cell until only Amelia was left. She still sat on the hard bed, her eyes barely open.

  “Hurry up!” Elysia shouted.

  They followed her through the twists and turns of corridors, barely taking note of their wanderings. Amelia dragged herself behind the group as they made their way to the shower cubicles. She had already assessed these cubicles and their small windows, trying to find an escape route. But they were too small, even for her petite frame.

  Elysia spun around on her small feet and shot a terrible glance of wrath at Amelia before she slithered past. The heavy musk of her scent hovered in the air after she had gone, making Amelia’s salivary glands squirt with bitterness and her nostrils flare. This was a new smell.

  Everyone had exactly five minutes to shower and get dressed.

  Amelia, clean but still partially asleep, followed the crowd once more. Her eyes barely focused on where she was going until she stumbled against Rose, who always seemed to be lingering in the back of the group.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Did you sleep well?”

  “Just about. You?”

  “Like a baby,” Rose giggled.

  “Do you ever think one day you’ll get out of here?”

  “Every day,” Rose said, her thin lips pressed into a smile.

  “Then why haven’t you escaped?”

  Rose paused for a moment, as though the question never crossed her mind. She traced a tender finger over her lower lip and frowned. “Not possible.”

  “You can buy your way out,” Amelia said. She grew suddenly animated as she spoke.

  Rose placed a steady hand on her shoulder and stared at Amelia, almost extinguishing her hope. “If it were that easy, Ace would not be here.”

  Amelia simply didn’t understand. She became annoyed; her shoulders tensed and her lips curled into an impudent smile. “I’ll find a way,” she muttered under her breath. Rose pretended not to hear. “Once you have no hope, there is nothing else to cling to.”

  “Aren’t you the smart one,” Rose laughed.

  “You watch,” Amelia said confidently.

  Eventually, they reached the arena. The windows were all open, so a gush of air and rays of sunlight weaved in. It looked and felt bigger than Amelia remembered. She stood, her eyes transfixed on the ground. Suddenly, exclamations of horror arose on all sides. Amelia started and looked toward the direction of the cry. A teenage boy, who must have been no older than fifteen, lay sprawled on the ground. His leg was gushing out spurts of blood like a fountain. Amelia rushed to his side and placed pressure on the wound. He stared at her with vacant eyes as his lips trembled.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  His red nose and blotchy face made her shiver. He beckoned for her to come closer and whispered, “Watch out.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, a small blade raced by her right ear. She grabbed her ear and felt the warm rush of blood. Abruptly, she stood up and turned around. Diablo held several small knives in his left hand and proceeded to throw them at her in calculated rhythm.

  Amelia darted, dodging each one in line with his rhythm. It was too easy. Ace grabbed her from behind and elbowed her left side, causing her to drop to the ground. She coughed and choked as her head spun. A painful headache clouded her vision and her body felt numb. The niggling pain of a headache was turning into an unbearable migraine. “Stand up,” said Diablo as he grabbed her hair. In the wake of the pain, she stumbled to the ground, her senses no longer co-operating with her body. She didn’t want to die, not like this. She placed her palms firmly on the ground, inhaled and exhaled loudly, and steadied her fears. She had to survive. She jumped up, too quickly for her sore body, but she ignored the shooting pain.

  She clenched her hands into fists and held them close to her chin. If she was to die, then at the very least, she would give them a good fight.

  “Okay everyone, gather around!” Diablo shouted.

  Amelia, convinced it was part of the ploy to get her guard down, remained vigilant in her defensive stance.

  “You too, Angel.”

  Amelia glanced around fearfully. In the back of the arena, two men, Elysia, and another woman sat on a bench, staring at her. She hadn’t noticed them before.

  She walked towards the rest of the group. All this was tiring her quickly. Then, like a flood of rain, she remembered the boy. She glanced back, but there was no one there. Had she imagined him? There was no blood where he had been, and as she glanced at her hands, there was no blood on them either.

  She was becoming delirious, her fear and confusion increasing by the second. Her body quivered uncontrollably, and her fingertips became icy cold.

  “I want you all to pair up. Whoever wins from each team fights the other winners, and so forth.”

  Amelia didn’t want to fight. She wanted, or rather needed answers in order to steady her nerves. She quickly darted through the crowd and grabbed Rose’s hand. Rose smiled at her with such delicacy that Amelia almost forgot her urgency for answers. She wondered how such a nice person could end up in such a tragic place. What did it matter in the end?

  “You’re excited,” Rose said.

  “What have they done to me?” blurted Amelia, her voice shaking as she spoke. As she pursed her lips, fear flickered in her eyes. Her irregular heartbeat pounded against her chest as she squeezed Rose’s forearm.

  Rose flinched and took a step back, her eyes growing wide with fear. “Did you eat or drink something earlier?” asked Rose.

  “Yes, water. It was left by my cell.”

  Rose merely shrugged as she said, “They spiked it with hallucinogens.”

  “Who?”

  “Maybe Diablo, or Elysia. They pick at random who gets the hallucinogens.”

  Amelia grabbed her chest and collapsed to the ground. As she lay on the ground, paralysed, her eyelids too heavy to keep open, she felt compelled to seek Diablo, to ask for help. She reached her hand in the air and mustered enough energy to open her mouth before collapsing again. She lay sprawled on the ground, thin and weak.

  “Please,” she cried.

  No one came to her rescue. The rest of the group, including Rose, merely stood there staring, as though fascinated by her distorted body. Amelia saw the hint of remorse in Rose’s eyes, and Amelia couldn’t contain the tears that trickled down her cold face. When had it become so cold? Would her mother and brother ever know she had died?

  Diablo appeared before her and said something, or perhaps she dreamt it in that moment of insanity. With the last ounce of energy she had, she licked her dry lower lip and clenched her cold hands. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. To her surprise, it was c
alm and controlled. She heard the chaotic mutters in the distance and felt someone dragging her body.

  A serene smile crept onto her face as her life withered away. Darkness plunged into her soul as they dragged her body across the hard floor. The scraping of her skin was unbearable, but she couldn’t scream in agony. Had she known death would be so painful, she would have fought harder to stay alive. Her last breath was wasted on regret. Beyond that, she had wished there were someone, anyone who could cradle her from the cold ground, for it had become too unbearable to endure. But no one came to comfort her.

  “I told you it would be too much.”

  “I thought she could take it.”

  “I don’t pay you to think!”

  “Sorry.”

  “I don’t know where idiots like you crawl out of!” Diablo said as he stared down at Amelia’s lifeless body.