Slater J. Tross, O.L.C

August 28th, 2030, 10:32 am  

"Slater, wait!" CJ calls. "Come back!"

My dress shoes hurtle against the lustrous, sleek floors of the Castle halls. The click of every touch resonates off the walls, but it is only my footsteps that I hear. No lights are on to brighten the room, but the drain of the sun from the large windows on my right illuminates my pathway. I pay no mind to the immense ocean that sits just below the bluffs that hold this mansion as I sprint away from everything.

A twist into a single doorway, revealing a row of stalls on one side and urinals on the one adjacent. Artificial light bulbs line the mirrors over the sinks to my right. The cold air swims to me as I duck into a stall and slam the door behind me. The confinement is somewhat comforting.

It's all withering away. The altercation between Hal, Craig, and Sergeant Lee last night was a total blur, and I can recollect none of it. I only remember that it happened and I'm ashamed. I always involve myself in everything even if I don't have to. Why do I do it? What has made me become so selfless? It's getting me into trouble but I can't control it. There is something refreshing about my actions at the moment, but after it happens, it fucks me up like this.

Thankfully, my one relief came after that incident. Roarke didn't haunt my dreams and I had a pleasant sleep. I awoke comfortably at eight a.m, the same time as everyone else. My new colleagues, however, told me that I was still talking to myself, but my volume didn't exceed a calm whisper.

Craig and Hal are never going to learn to cooperate for as long as they're in the Imperial Guard. It makes me ill thinking about how much they hate each other. How can we, the rest of the class, sit back and watch them tear each other apart? It's only going to divide us further until there is no more Class 30. And once they lack the constraints to get to each other, who knows what they will do. How can I not get involved? It's not my fight but something inside me is giving me the obligation. I have to do something.

And that is the responsibility that is killing me. I have a compulsion to make everyone happy and make sure no one is fighting on my watch. I have lived a crazier life in the past five months than most kids my age and I have the experience to change what I see. But I can't; I don't know how to. Not to mention that I have this stupid mark on my arm that links me to everything wrong with this Empire, so everyone is asking me for an explanation when I don't have one. Or maybe I'm too busy asking myself.

I have to be better at everything. I need to connect with my new peers more. I am going to be spending the rest of my life with them, and they are even known as my brothers and sisters. If we're going to be yelling and struggling to unite forever, then we will be wasting our time with each other. I'm having a battle with myself as to whether or not I am responsible for initiating that change in the end. What do I need to do?

I collapse against the porcelain toilet behind me. My elbow rests on the seat, and I suddenly feel the internal urge to vomit. The cotton, button up shirt clinging to my chest rejects that idea. I am overwhelmed by my ever-changing world. I'm just a lost teenager in a dynamic realm that I don't belong in.

In my junior year, I never considered my future past high school or what the rest of my life would consist of. At that moment, I didn't care what I did, but I wanted to do something. The Imperial Guard was the one exception to that. This is nothing that I ever wanted. If I would have known what I would have to withstand being a recruit in the Imperial Guard, I definitely would have stopped running and turned myself in. No more needless crime and murdering.

That's the other stress weighing on my brain. Where would I be without all this happening to me? Enjoying the remainder of my summer, most likely. Not sitting hopelessly in a bathroom in the Castle, worrying about the rest of my life. The real challenge is actually picturing myself being happy.

Am I better off this way? My life has a direction now, and I have people to follow me along. Class 30 is going to become my closest friends, tighter than anyone I knew from high school. I'm going to live with the Manchesters, and I find myself caring about them like I would my own family. Now that I'm in the Imperial Guard, it is almost mandatory that everyone in the organization shows me respect, including Craig and Lee. Is that more desirable than where I would be if none of my criminal activity ever occurred?

And that is my last grievance. I never intended to join the Imperial Guard since both of my parents forbid me from ever becoming one of them. If this never happened, the thought wouldn't cross my mind. Not once in my life did I consider the idea feasible. But here I am.

Once I read my father's suicide note, it all became clear the type of hostility my family had for the Empire's military. The things they made him do before his death are disgusting, and if I have to do something even remotely similar, I must stand up. I will not take my own life for the sake of guilt. I will fight for what is right. Just like how I have to fight for everything else.

My mother hates me, and there is no way around that. The Captain told me that it's not my fault, but I don't know if I can believe him. If I never ran away from home to hide from my crimes, she wouldn't have deteriorated like she did. My face would still not sting from that vicious smack she gave me. She would still love me. I know I should let her go because of her distaste, but I can't. I never intended for any of this to happen. I still find myself caring for her and her terrible, twisted personality.

I stretch my legs out, and I can feel tears overflowing over my eyelids. I still can't comprehend the idea that my mom isn't going to be at the ceremony. Everybody's parents are going to be present for their sons and daughters, dressed in their best midday attire. But me? Two days ago I found out that my dad has been dead for the past ten years, and only hours later did my mom kick me out of the only home I am ever known. I have nobody.

The door to the restroom creaks open, bringing all the outside air and noise in with it. I dismiss a sniffle to mask my pitiful position, but I remain on the cold tiles with my elbow on the toilet seat. I tuck my legs in to not raise suspicion. I see two shadows and pairs of dress shoes like mine stroll toward the mirrors, away from me. Above their shoes, black slacks reach past their ankles, part of the Imperial Guard ceremonial attire. They're guards, but I don't know if they're from my class or not.

"Of course this is the shit I wake up to," the gruff voice of one man remarks. "Ken decides to go on a hiatus so we have to deal with these damn kids. Why can't they behave for two days? They're always at each other's throats."

The faucet starts spitting out water and I hear water splashing. "Well, Hal is your pupil, James. And he's fighting Levi's kid. You have to take some of the blame for that."

The first man treads around the one by the sink. "You know, Brian, you always do this. Every time I do something even remotely controversial, you say it's my fault and tell me what I did wrong."

Oh God, it's the Captain. I can't let him see me in this state, especially with his unknown companion right by his side. I hold in my sobs, but they are fiercely fighting me. I hug my legs against my chest to make sure they don't slide into view.

"What's the problem with that? If you're being an asshole, I'm going to tell you."

"Yeah, whatever." His friend stops in place, feet facing toward the Captain. "Slater is also a part of that group, so you have to be there, too. It'll be us and Levi, stuck in the same room with those kids."

The faucet shuts off. "Oh boy. I'm counting down the days."

They finish trading words, but they are frozen in place. The points of their dress shoes are directed toward my stall and I. I squeeze my legs closer and dig myself deeper against the wall between the spotless toilet. I have a sinking feeling that they can recognize my presence, and they are just as lost as I am. None of us know why we are here in this situation.

The pair of shoes that belong to the Captain's friend escape the vicinity, leaving Manchester and I alone in the luxurious bathroom. We are separated by an inch of a marble stall door and the margin of disoriented atmosphere between us. But he doesn't know all that is ailing me. According to his acquaintance just now, he knows about the argument I had with Craig and Hal last night. From the sound of it, the officers are more than unhappy.

He leans against the door so the heels of his shoes are faced toward me. With an exhale, he crosses one of his legs. "Look, kid, I know it's hard. Things are moving pretty fast. One day you're the most hated kid in the known world, but in the next, you are being celebrated. It's a lot to take in all at once.

"But you have to be strong and take it how it comes. Life is going to throw you curveballs like this and you will manage them like you have been. I have seen you come back from things that I thought would kill you. Both realistically and metaphorically. You are capable of tackling all this shit you'll go through because you're you. That's just how you've always been.

"I heard about what happened last night with your officers. I got the full report from Sergeant Lee. I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. But I wasn't surprised to hear that you stood up for someone. I remembered when we got kicked out of Bellamy's because you stood up for that kid who was being attacked. That's just who you are. And you have no reason to change that just because you are in the Imperial Guard. That is what makes you better than the rest of the kids in your class. Rank is one thing, but you have something inside of you that sets you apart. I'm willing to bet that none of the other kids would've done what you did."

I unleash a short sob after holding it all back. The tears escape me again and drip onto my white button-down below my deranged black tie. "I don't want to do that. I don't want to be in the middle of everything, but I can't help myself."

"I get it, Slater. Really, I do. You hate seeing the conflict in front of you but you're tired of trying to stop it. Tired of being the peacemaker. I was the same way, and in some ways, I'm still like that. But you have to understand that they'll understand one day that their animosity is trivial, with or without you. You've done what you could to stop them, but that's just how they're going to be."

I get go of my legs and extend them to relieve numbness. "That's not even the thing I'm most worried about."

"What's that?"

"My mom isn't coming to the ceremony. And she doesn't love me anymore." My last word coughs out with my cheeks stained. "What did I do to deserve this, Brian? Why does she hate me?"

"Slater, you didn't do anything to deserve this. It's just the way that she's handling your situation that is wrong. But it's too late for her to turn back now. The damage has been done on her end. If she can't love and care for you as her son, then you already better off without her." He pauses for a moment, separating his feet. "Look, kid, I'm sorry this happened to you. I should have never let her hit you."

"It's okay. I shouldn't have instigated her." I sniff. I wasn't expecting her to snap like that, so it's disheartening to hear him have regret for something that wasn't exactly preventable. The Captain is almost as worrisome as me. I find the fortitude to smile, as a memory flashes across the front of my mind. "Hey, Captain, the last time I saw someone get hurt, someone told me something that I haven't forgotten. I mean, I haven't forgotten it, but I still have a hard time grasping it myself."

I hear nothing from his side of the stall door. I don't know what his face spells out. He doesn't shuffle his shoes or move his legs.

My eyes are damp but no more teardrop streams overflow. "He told me that I can't save everybody. Some things are just not in my control."

The Captain inhales. "Wow."

"I'm still trying to take that advice. It's tough, but I'm willing to change."

His shoes progress toward the sinks away from the stall until all I can see is a shadow. With wavering strength, I press off the toilet with my arm and stand up. My legs are weak and I don't know if I could properly walk to my seat when the ceremony starts. It has to be the emotions taking over.

I slide the lock on the door and step out. My mentor has his hands clenched on both sides of the rim of the pedestal sink with his body folded over. I can see myself, outfit disheveled and face drained of color, through the opening on the mirror he leaves above him. My hair is wandering here and there, some strands refusing to remain upright.

The Captain straightens out, and my reflection disappears. He turns to face me and sits back on the front of the sink. "You know, you continue to impress me, even if you aren't doing any kind of test or anything. I feel as if nothing ever goes by you."

I insert my hands into my pockets. "Well, I already had enough of my memory taken from me, so I try to retain as much as I can. You never know what you'll need to remember." I step over to the next sink beside him and mimic his position. "I got your note from the officers yesterday. Did you really mean that?"

"Every word." His gaze periodically dips down to my collar, never remaining for more than a split second. He springs off the sink and overlooks me. "Come here, let me fix your tie. It's bothering me."

"Okay. Sorry, I never learned how to do it myself."

He frowns. "That's all right."

As he reconstructs my tie beneath my chin, I inspect his own jacket, adorned with stuff I've never seen before. I've seen Sergeant Lee's uniform plenty of times to recognize the gold buttons and trim, as well as the chevrons on the sleeve. But with the Captain, the chevrons are absent, instead replaced with two silver bars on the fold of his jacket collar. Over the left side of his chest is the insignia of Queen's City; a majestic eagle with outstretched wings. Everything appears to be in order, but I guess that comes with experience over the years. Something I clearly lack.

"There, that should feel better." He frees my collar, backing up. "Now you just need your coat, and you'll be good to go."

I look in the mirror to my side, judging the state of my outfit. Much better. It's just the hair that's out of place; swerving in all separate directions. I should get to managing that soon.

I turn back to the Captain, adjusting the golden pins on his wrists. "Thank you, Captain."

"No problem. If I didn't do it, I'm sure someone else would've fixed it for you."

"No, not just that," I add, and he peers at me. "I feel like I don't thank you enough for how much you help me. Maybe I'm too busy worrying about myself and taking things for granted. But helping me cope with finding out about my dad, standing up to my mom for me, and now this? I don't know what to say that will show you how thankful I am. I can't find the right words."

Captain pats me on the shoulder and grins. "Don't worry about it, kid. It's the least I could do. The last thing I want you to do is feel alone." He maneuvers around me and to the restroom door. "Now, I would give you a handshake or something, but I want that to wait until you get out there. You know, to make it official."

I smile along with him. "Got it."

The outside noise of distinct air drifts into the bathroom with the opening of the door. He looks back at me, fidgeting with his own tie. "Okay, I'll give you some time to yourself. I have to get going; we have to be out there a lot earlier than you guys. I'll catch you out there. Oh, and Slater?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't forget that I'm proud of you. No matter what anyone says." And with that, he closes the door behind him to traverse through the wide halls of the Castle. A silence falls over the room.

I turn to the mirror, studying my unsettled hair. I'm isolated again, but I know that deep down, I'll never be alone.