August 14th, 2030, 8:02 pm  

Drops of ice curl down my face, around my cheekbones, and toward my shivering lips. I can feel the foam seep out of my hair and down my back. I tilt my head back to keep it from running in front of my eyes.

I miss those nights in autumn when the sky would become dark at dinner time and the wind would bring in a storm from the sea. I'd fall asleep to the gusts rattling at my window and the rain throwing pellets at the roof. Some nights I would go out with my friends and the surge would be cold. I remember that feeling of my hair freezing and having to warm it up before returning home.

That was a simpler time, when I didn't have to worry about running for my life. Life was so carefree then. If I would've known about how things are going now, I wouldn't have complained so much. I'd do anything to have those moments back.

It's refreshing to finally be able to get a shower after a couple days of draining work. It's all the stress that's just tearing me apart now. What could happen if I fail circles endlessly in my head. No matter how hard I try to butt it out, it comes storming back. I'm glad to just be able to be alone for the first time since arriving to collect my thoughts all at once. Things have moved so quickly that I haven't even had time to think.

I'm mentally preparing myself for next Saturday, even if it is ten days away. It's never too early to predict the rest of your life. First, they won't call my name at the ranking. Will officers rush the crowd to yank me out of my seat and drag me across the floor to the doors? They'll do that after they beat the living shit out of me. Then they'd throw me in an interrogation room again, and we'd start all over again. Except this time, the second chance won't save me.

Maybe, though, it will be a peaceful ending. They don't call my name. I leave the event and follow everyone back to the barracks, then night falls. The next morning is when everyone has to be out of the headquarters beside the top ten recruits. When I'm done packing any things for departure, I wait in the front lobby, with the receptionist, Irene, until someone appears to arrest me for once and for all.

I wonder if, after that, they'd decide to have a trial. Why would they need one, if they were one-hundred percent sure that I did what I did? If they would need me to give an account of what happened, here's what I could tell them:

I remember staring down an Imperial Guard flashlight with my back turned, running into the alleyway adjacent to the Imperial Bank. Their yells, pleading me to stop, haunt my memories of that night. The next morning, I was confronted at school by two officers. As they tried to arrest me, I jumped out the classroom window. Yes, you heard that right. It was the first floor, but still.

That is all I could tell them. Everything else shoots out in short bursts, but the most important intelligence, the murders, are just as mysterious to me as they are to anyone else. The one thing I need to recollect is the one I can't.

I release myself from my mind and am brought back to reality. Don't worry about the what-ifs, because they might never happen, and you will have worried about nothing. It makes sense, but it doesn't hurt to look ahead.

I reach ahead and twist the shower off. The last bit of liquid ripples through my hair and down my shoulder blades. The tiles beneath my feet and the dim light above my head send a chilling shock through my bones as soon as the water is sucked down the drain.

My towel and clothes rest on the pegs right outside the shower. Opening the white curtain only enough for my hand to be seen, I stretch out around the corner. I feel the towel and pull it back into the prism shell. I wrap it around my waist, tucking the end over the top edge.

I'm not going out into the corridor without my clothes on. I trust nobody here enough to be so vulnerable in public. I have to wait for the excess water to run down and off my body before throwing on my white tee and shorts. Besides the guys, my feet will thank me later for waiting to step out of the shower. There has got to be at least five diseases on those tiles out there alone. I wonder if they ever scrub these bathrooms as a punishment or something.

Honestly, I'd rather take prison.

Someone else is taking a shower two stalls to the left of me. He must've come in after me, because there was no one here when I arrived. I don't hear any voices out in the main room to my right or nearby, so I think the coast may be clear for now. I poke my head around the curtain edge, swiveling my head left and right. The corridor light is flickering overhead with its off-white tone. I grab my clothes off the peg and escape back into the box.

I emerge in my apparel while swishing my hair around in the towel. The steam escaping from the open ceilings of the showers warms the room and sticks to my skin as I walk out to the main restroom. I can't wait to head off to sleep. Today was such a long day out at the yard.

I approach the sinks beside the door to look in one of the mirrors that loom over them. I sling my towel around the back of my neck as I lean into my reflection. There's a little bit of foam on my temple, near my hairline, so I wipe it away. Fresh face.

The instant I turn to the door to my right is the same one that it opens. Three guys walk in, with the one up front laughing at his friend in the back. When he brings his attention to the front, all four of us cease in place. He glares at me, but I try not to look him in the face. I want to leave the bathroom without any issues.

The twins hold their ground at the door while Luke maneuvers around me to the sinks. I want to get past them, but I know better than to go through these two. I guess it's just better to wait. Would asking politely do anything? Probably not. I don't want to say anything that these three can feed off of.

"So you're good friends with CJ now, huh?" Luke turns on the faucet. "Surprised to see you have any friends, for that matter."

"I could say the same," I retort.

He snickers. "I see we have a comedian in the barracks now. Hey, I've got a joke for you." He lathers up his hands, and I watch the clear bubbles spread around. "The fact that you're still fucking here."

"I thought we weren't allowed to use swear words here, Luke. You don't want me to tell Sergeant Lee what you said, do you?"

"He doesn't give a fuck, and I know you don't either. You're just being a shithead at this point."

I smile. "Thank you."

Luke finishes washing his hands and flicks his hands over the sink. "You know, you've got some real nerve, hanging out with CJ today. Actually no, he's got the nerve to be hanging out with you. You used him to gain leverage on me, and I know it."

"I don't use people, Luke. He raced you, and he won. Get over yourself."

"He embarrassed me, is what he did. I'm supposed to go in the immediate duty, and then some farm boy comes in and does that to me."

I shake my head. "You idiot, they don't rank you based on the trials. And he's not a "farm boy" just because he's from Stanville. Not everyone can bathe in their parents' money, you know."

Luke stands there, by the sink, wallowing in what I just hit him with. I just told him to stop generalizing people like CJ by generalizing him and people from Woodrow. Hopefully, he's too dumb to catch on to my hypocrisy.

"At least Woodrow isn't full of criminals," he replies after a while.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not a criminal anymore."

He starts toward me until he's a sink length away. "Then what will you be when you don't get ranked?" Rich and Don cackle over by the door. Luke doesn't surpass a head shake. "I wonder how long it took for you to become this stupid."

I turn to the exit, but the twins stand firm. I'm not leaving this place without Luke getting a piece of me.

"Just know that if you or CJ ever fuck with me like that again, both of you are going to be sorry. I didn't come here to be embarrassed."

"You know what I think?" I twist back to him. His teeth are showing flashes at me, ready to pounce. "I think you need to grow a thicker skin. How can you be in the Imperial Guard when you can't even-"

Luke sends his fist into my stomach, throwing my shoulders over my waist. The shock rumbles through my torso as if it pierced to my spine. I feel my face get hot as my knees begin to twitch.

He comes down to my level, baring his teeth. "What about being sorry don't you get?"

I cover his ears with my hands and I raise my knee up to the center of his face. He stumbles back, tripping over his heel. His head was inches from hitting the sink, which would've been ugly. He holds his palm up to his nose to staunch the bleeding. Four hands grab onto my inner elbows and yank me back from Luke.

"No, let him go," Luke orders, rising to his feet. "If he thinks he can pull shit like that, let's see if he can finish what he started."

"What I started? You fucking punched me first!"

"Don, Rich, watch the door."

"No. We're not fighting."

Luke snorts. "Then I guess I'll have to tell everyone about how Slater kneed me in the face and was too much of a pussy to fight back."

I don't want to fight him. I don't want to fight anyone. It's against the rules. If we get caught, we'll both get expelled, and even worse for me, arrested. Could both of us go to jail? It's assault if we go through with it. Is that a risk I'm willing to take? I'm not so sure. But I would love to see Luke get his rich boy face beaten in. CJ would love to see it, too.

I'm generalizing again, aren't I?

"Fine, let's go," I say, straightening myself up.

Luke throws up his hands to guard his already-smashed face. "It's about time you stood up for yourself, Trossy."

Is that all he wants me to do? Stand up for myself? I don't need to show him that I can be strong now. A fight isn't going to prove shit. He wants to beat me up just as much as I want to. This has nothing to do with pride for me. It's just so he can look tough in front of his friends. He means business. I guess it's time to see what Luke's made of.

I mirror him and approach. I follow his visible eye as he holds his ground in the white-washed tiles. Drops of his blood dot the floor near his bare feet. React. Let him make the first move.

He throws a right toward my face, to which I swat away. While distracted by the first shot, he follows with a left in the same spot, connecting with my cheek. He got lucky, but I didn't flinch too hard with that one. As he recovers, I match him with a second shot to the face that lands. This is going to be a scrappy fight if this is how it's going to go. We can't keep up with each other for long.

He reaches forward for my collar before I dodge his attempt. He was trying to get me into a vulnerable spot, but I won't let him. He goes for it again, however, this time, I duck my head and drive it into his chest and shoulder. Using all of my force, I push him until his back slams against the wall. He grunts in pain.

Now, my head is down, which was a dumb move on my part. Luke swiftly pulls the back collar of my shirt toward him, and I feel the air swim to my spine. For a split second, I see complete darkness. My hands trace around the wall, searching for his body as I am blinded. My fingers feel the outside of his legs, and I get an idea. I could try to pick him up and throw him to the floor.

My visibility returns, and I get my hands around behind his legs. His right fist just keeps firing away at my jaw, but I try my best to completely ignore it. If I can pull this off, he'll be disoriented for the rest of the fight. I collect all my strength and lift him off the ground with both arms under his legs. With my head near his sternum, I charge toward the sink before hearing a shattering crash.

Luke yells out in pain as I release his legs. The mirror behind him is in a million pieces in and around the sink. Shards of glass decorate the floor, and I watch my feet as I back up.

Seemingly unphased by the brutal hit, Luke kneels down and grabs one of the larger knives of glass. Its point gleams in the artificial radiance overhead. He has a weapon now; the fight is basically unfair. I can't let him stab me.

I go soles over toes toward the bathroom stalls. Attacking him will do nothing but put me at risk. He has to hit first, but I can't just allow him to shank me with a piece of a mirror. Hopefully Rich and Don can process the fact that things are quickly becoming out of hand. I need some help here.

"What did I say before? You fuck with me, you'll be sorry."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the bathroom door swing open. The twins appear perplexed as two patrolling guards run toward Luke and I. My opponent drops the glass as Sergeant Lee wraps his arms around him and elevates his body much farther than I did. Another guard, not Corporal Porter, seizes my wrists and jerks me back.

"One of these days, I'm gonna fucking kill you, Tross!"

"Not if I kill you first!"

"All right!" Lee shouts over our threats. "What the hell is going on here?"

I waste no time to tell the truth. "He hit me first! I didn't do anything wrong!"

"He's lying! Look at my fucking back, man!"

Whoever is holding me jostles my body around. Lee observes Luke's back, which I can assume is battered in shards of the mirror. He pulls Luke toward the sink, and then toward the twins.

"Neither of you did anything? Pathetic." Lee peers over at his colleague behind me. "Bring them to Petry. He'll get them sorted out."

Luke glares at me as he's dragged out of the bathroom. Blood trickles down the center of his lips.

Sergeant Lee sits in the center of the leather couch to separate Luke and I like an angry father. If either one of us so much as flinches, he's jumping in. That's what he was made for, so I'm told.

I'm too anxious to take notes of my surroundings. All I care about now are the four people in the room right now, including the man whose office we're in. His desk is wiped clean of any mismatched files or papers. There isn't a single picture frame in sight on the surface, which just fills my gut with seriousness. This guy is going to tear Luke and I a new one.

The sleek, thin slab propped at the front of the officer's desk reads, MSgt. Kendrick Petry. This guy's entire look just screams hardass. Either that, or he's one some kind of high horse because he's ranked or whatever. His jaw sticks out, and it makes his lips look bigger. His bottom lip is actually somewhat busted up like someone took a knife and slit a little opening. He has little to no hair anywhere on his face, which is kinda scary. I bet his voice sounds like a dog.

"I hope you boys know that engaging in hostile contact outside of permitted locations is strictly prohibited. You could very well be kicked out of our program for it." Petry's eyes bounce between Luke, to my far left, and me. "I would appreciate it if one of you could provide me with a viable explanation as to why this occurred in the first place."

Luke starts, "I-"

"And I want the God-honest truth. I can find plot holes with ease, so tread lightly. Begin, Mr. Bradley."

"I walked into the bathroom and saw Slater. We started arguing, and we decided to settle it. That's it."

Petry sighs. "That's far too vague for my liking, Mr. Bradley. What were you arguing about?"

Luke hesitates, leaning forward to look at me. Is he looking for me to help him rest his case? I have my own report, and it's not whatever bullshit he's about to share. "We've been challenging each other all week. It's nothing new. Today in the yard, one of his friends bested me, and I didn't like that."

"So you took out your anger on Slater?"

"Yes."

The Master Sergeant reverts his gaze from Luke to me. I'm not so sure that he's on board with his story. "What about you, Mr. Tross? Is that the truth?"

I'm going to tell him the real truth. Fuck Luke and the twins. I'm not holding anything back this time. I don't care if he tried to stay neutral. He's been getting on my last nerves when I have done nothing to him. He likes to overreact, and I'm going to teach him not to fuck with me anymore. He'll be sorry.

"He walked into the bathroom as I was leaving, and his two friends stopped me from getting out. He started getting mad at me for something that happened during one of the trials, and then he punched me in the stomach. I wasn't going to take it."

"Not before he insulted me three times," Luke adds, finally showing some hostility.

"He threatened to stab me with a broken piece of glass!" I jump to my feet, throwing my index finger in his direction.

Luke springs off the couch, but he doesn't lunge ahead. "Yeah, a piece of glass from the mirror that you broke on my back!"

Sergeant Lee barricades us from each other. "That's enough! Sit down, both of you."

We stare at each other and slump back onto the couch. I can't wait to get my hands on him when we get out of here. I'm going to fuck him up.

Petry presses himself away from his desk and towers over the three of us. I did not expect him to be this tall. His head is only a few feet from the ceiling. He places his palms face-down on the surface and leans into us. His face tenses, as does mine in preparation for whatever punishment he is about to propose.

"It appears that you boys have had this going on for a while now, and it has just recently bubbled over. Assuming you two are in the same trial group, we're going to have to split you up to prevent this from happening again. You will be monitored by presiding officers at all times until the ranking next week."

"Sir, they also share a bunk room," chimes Lee. I don't know if I should be glad he said that or not. That puts me farther away from Luke.

"In that case," continues Petry, "Sergeant Lee, your orders are to transport all of Mr. Tross' belongings into a separate room, perhaps one that is less crowded. Mr. Bradley will remain in his current room, in the same trial group."

"What?" I nearly pounce at him. "Why are you moving me?" I can't get transferred. I'd have to make new friends when I already have CJ. I can't leave CJ alone with the trio. They would tear him apart, and I couldn't do anything about it. If they lay a hand on him, I'll hunt them down. I've only known CJ for a day, but I don't want him to get hurt. He's my friend.

"Roll of a dice, Mr. Tross. Just be happy we didn't have to do anything drastic. Now, Sergeant Lee, your orders."

The three of us go to our feet, and the centerman grabs us by our triceps to guide us out of the room. Luke exits the office first before Lee stops in his tracks by the sound of Petry's call.

"Sergeant Lee, if you wouldn't mind, the Captain has asked to speak to Slater."

The Sergeant shoves Luke to the right in the hallway, toward his anonymous colleague. "Take him back. I'll be down here."

He pushes me to the left. My eyes don't leave my nemesis until the guard pulls him around the corner.