Nightmares. 

The most awful things the mind can do to the human body.

I can blissfully say that I never remember my dreams - they're probably gruesome and beyond terrifying. 

This is the case tonight, but when I wake up, the terror raises with me. I wake drenched in sweat, panting heavily, tangled within my sleeping bag and unable to move.

 I sit back in my sleeping bag and carefully extricate myself from the bag, exhaling shakily as I pull off my jacket and walk into the chilly night air. Not having a change of clean clothing, I can only let the breeze cool me down as I climb the fire escape from the apartment building up to the roof.

"You too?" Someone asks.

I look over in surprise. Aaron's laying on his back, staring up at the sky. "Yeah," I say, walking over and sitting next to him. "What's your excuse?"

"Can't sleep," he replies. "Something about this Damien character doesn't sit right."

I laugh softly. "Glad I'm not the only one." I draw my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin on my knees.

"What's your excuse?" he asks.

"Nightmares," I reply. Feeling his eyes on me, I continue. "My first one that's actually terrified me since my brother died. I'm sure I get them a lot more, I just don't remember a lot of them."

"I heard you tossing in your sleep," he says, looking back at the sky. "I just wasn't sure whether or not to wake you. Had I known, I probably would've woken you up."

"Don't worry about it," I say with a shrug. "I'm not even sure what the nightmare was. Just that it was damn terrifying."

"How's your head?" he asks. "You hit it pretty hard."

"Meh. I've definitely had worse." I motion to my injured leg. "Case and point."

"How did that happen, anyways? I never even asked."

"A bomb went off in a mall the day we met you. I got hit by a piece of shrapnel when it exploded. It hurt. A lot."

"That kind of thing tends to," he remarks wisely.

I laugh, closing my eyes as a cold breeze moves my short hair out of my face. "No dip, Sherlock. How long have you been awake?"

"Never went to sleep."

"So you heard...?"

"Yeah. But I already suspected something anyways. Lea can be subtle, but I know her well. We've been glued to the hip since my mother's death. I know when she's hiding something. Thanks for talking to her, though."

"Meh. Drama like that is unneeded. And Brian and I are close enough to warrant that kind of thinking. I try making it clear as much as possible."

"Good."

I smile softly, opening my eyes and staring at the building across from us. "Drama can tear the best relationship to pieces. I've seen it happen to my parents' friends before the war. Best to squander any misunderstanding before it gets too out of hand."

"Understandable," he agrees. 

We fall into a companionable silence, me shivering slightly with the new found cold. And I brilliantly left my jacket inside. Smooth, Bryna. Smooth.

I sigh at my predicament, rolling my eyes at my sleep-addled stupidity. 

"What's up?" Aaron asks, looking over at me.

"It's freezing out here and I stupidly left my jacket inside."

He chuckles. "Cliche much?" he asks, and I grin.

"What, me? Cliche? Never. Not purposely anyways."

He sits up, drawing his knees up and resting his arms on them. "You want my jacket?"

"Har de har har. That's funny. Nah, I'll be alright. It's better than being drenched in sweat."

He chuckles again. "Way to mess with the cliche moment."

"That's the plan." I smirk softly, then rest my forehead on my knees and close my eyes, inhaling deeply. I exhale. "Damn," I say afterwards. "I almost died today. Like... legit, if Damien hadn't been there, and I hadn't managed to grab onto something before I fell..." I open my eyes and look up. "Even if the fall didn't kill me, the Hound could've ended me."

"Yeah. That's kind of frightening, huh?"

"Kind of frightening, yeah."

"What's your favorite color?" he asks abruptly. I look at him strangely and he grins at me. "I'm aware of how cliche this question is, yeah. But what else is there to talk about that isn't depressing?"

I think about his question, then nod. "Fair enough. My favorite color's blue. Deep blue - like the ocean. You?"

"Green. Any shade, but dark green is preferable."

I nod. "My brother liked red. Blood red. No particular reason that he ever told me. But I think it's because blood is a sign of both life and death - something him and I were both in limbo with on many occasions. Even at ten, he was philosophical like that."

"Guess he kinda had to be, huh?"

"Yeah. Even though we were only a minute or so apart, he played big brother well." I inhale as memories of my twin brother being whipped and beat in front of me for helping to keep me alive - stealing food, beating up other Slaves, talking back to the Sentries, breaking protocol, et cetera - flash in my head. 

Sensing my discomfort, Aaron squeezes my shoulder sympathetically before changing the subject. "What was your favorite thing to do before the war?"

I laugh softly. "By far, it had to be pulling pranks with my brother. You?"

"Probably going to the park with our mother on the weekends," he decides. "We used to get ice cream and  walk around the park talking about anything except our broken family."

"We used to do the same thing. Except it was all four of us, and we'd start making these outrageous stories together and decide at the end of the day which one of us had the craziest ideas." I crack a smile. "By far, it was our father."

Aaron hums in acknowledgement, but doesn't comment. "If you could do one thing in this world, for better or worse, what would it be?"

I think about his question for a moment. "I'd probably try to end the Condemned States."

He grins out of the corner of my eye. "That's probably something all of us would say."

It's my turn to hum, this time in agreement.

"I suppose that's my response as well. But not so much the States as the corruptness within."

I nod. "Fair enough."

"What were the names of everyone in the original group? I've always wanted to ask."

"Kip was the original leader. Her real name was Kaitlyn, but everyone called her Kip. I've no idea why. She was kidnapped by the CS, and we haven't heard from her since. Her right hand was Jordan. He was pretty quiet, but resourceful and intelligent. He died, unfortunately, just before Kip was kidnapped. Jaycee was his sister. Her real name was Jocelyn, but she always preferred Jaycee. She was one of the first of us to be captured. Sara was Jaycee's best friend from birth. They all escaped together. Sara was the last of us to go before Justin betrayed us. Kelston was perhaps the quietest of us all. She rarely spoke, but from what I understand, she lost her sister before I came along, and it tore her apart. She... uh, she..." I frown. "Well, she ran into open fire and allowed herself to be killed. I think her emotions were so bottled up and she just couldn't take it anymore."

"Oh... That's..." He frowns, not knowing what to say.

I laugh softly. "Not much you can say to that type of thing, is there?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Anyways. After Kelston, there's Jared. He was loud and rambunctious, but a damned good fighter. He was killed by a Sentry in a raid about two years ago. Then there's Fletcher and Ange. They were a couple, and they were the first to betray us. You already know what happened to them. After them is the triplets. Or, rather, they were practically triplets. Stacey, Lyle, and Conner. The three of them were inseparable, until Conner betrayed us all and Stacey and Lyle were killed. Then there were the four brothers, Kevin, Jacobson, Keith and Alexander. They, I have to say, were the highlight of our group. But they all left awhile ago. Keith and Alexander betrayed us, and Jacobson and Kevin disappeared soon after that. After them are Weston, Colton and Serenity. They all disappeared soon after Jacobson and Kevin."  I sigh.

"And then there's Justin. He was my best friend, and the only reason I discovered the group. He showed me the ropes and stayed beside me through everything. All of the times I couldn't sleep, any time I needed to get something off my chest... He was my rock, essentially. And then he traded us out for his sister, and left Brian, Alex and I in the dust. Two months later we find out that he has betrayed us in the worst way possible. After him are Brian and Alex - the twins. They welcomed me with guarded but open arms, and we've all grown fairly close. They're hilarious and completely care-free when they can be, but guarded against anyone outside of our small circle. I don't know much about their past, except that their parents were supporters of the Condemned States, and that they ran because they didn't agree."

Aaron doesn't respond for the longest time. When he does, his voice is tinged with sorrow. "You all were pretty close, huh?"

I laugh softly. "Yeah. We really were. And then one by one, they were taken from everyone. I think that you two have instilled hope in Brian and Alex. For the last two months, they were quiet and solemn. Like the weight of everything had finally hit them full force. And then you two come along, and they're slowly becoming the goofy, amusing jokers I've come to know." I straighten out, resting my hands on the roof to prop myself up and watch the horizon as the light starts to rise. 

"And what about you? How does our appearance affect you?"

"I think... I think that you guys have restored my faith in myself and everything. I have a want to keep forward and make it to my goal - not just deliver you all there." I shrug. 

Aaron looks at me and nods, smiling softly. "Lea has been so happy after meeting you all. She used to be so quiet, and now she's... well, she seems human again."

"And you?" I inquire.

"I'm... I'm content. I think I've finally found the people I want to remain with."

My smile is hidden by my hair, but it's broad and accomplished.

~~~

We're walking again, about a day later. The conversation on the roof with Aaron definitely was deja vu of some sort. And even though it was one of our more serene moments, repeating heart-to-heart conversations is not something I want to keep in habit of, if only for the reason that it gets old and cliche extremely fast. 

For whatever reason, everyone's on edge today - even Damien has been blessedly silent. 

We walk through the town, and I can't help but wonder who was behind the shoe abandoned in the middle of the street, or if the people that owned the house less than twenty feet away made it out before the building collapsed. Or whether or not the carnage in front of us from a car crash had taken any lives.  The smart phones (I only know 'cause Mum and Dad used them) littering the streets and some of the blood stains on the asphalt tell me that this was one of the cities where not many people survived. 

This is one of the worse cities. I've been through many of them, and many have been disturbing, but as I notice the putrid smell of rotted death and the glimpses of what appear to be corpses, I feel myself want to be sick. It's disgusting - all of it. The war, the bombs, the deaths, the corpses, the forcing orphaned or rebellious children into slavery... It's sick. And towns like this make me want to rebel against the States.

But I think the worse part is when the putrid smell intensifies, Lea is the first to see the child corpses of thirteen individuals, gathered up and splayed out on the crumbling sidewalk for every passerby to see.

"Oh my God!" she chokes out, putting her hand over her mouth. Aaron pulls her into his chest, looking rather green.

Alex gags, turning away with the slightest wetness in his eyes, and Brian walks a safe distance away briskly, before proceeding to vomit.

Damien heaves and walks away from everyone, either to vomit or get away from the sight. I feel sick to my stomach, and avert my gaze. Aaron catches my eye and mouths 'you alright?'

I nod, smiling weakly. But I'm not alright. These kids had to have been no more than seven, with the small size of their bodies, and it's awful to think that they had just been... left. I've seen decayed bodies before. But this... This is just... awful. I've not seen the States do something this... cruel and defiling. These poor children have been dead for a little less than a year, so they were placed here recently. No doubt they were Slaves that had failed at their duty and were left here to rot. And without any animals or insects to eat the remains, they'll be around for so much longer. 

Brian returns, and noticing my expression, he wraps me in his arms. He doesn't say anything as I bury my head into his chest and heave a shaky sigh.

"That's sick," I mutter.

He hums in agreement. "It is. You know why they're here, right?"

"It's kinda obvious," I whisper. I pull away as Damien returns, steeling my expression and turn to Aaron and Lea, the latter which still sobbing into Aaron's shoulder. "We should head out," I whisper.

"Probably best," Aaron agrees.

I look at Alex, who's miserably silent, looking haunted as he sits in the seat of an abandoned car. "Alex?" I call to him.

He looks at me. "Who does that?" he croaks to me. "Who just... kills thirteen innocent children thrown unwillingly into a war they want no part in? Who is that cruel?"

I smile sadly, not acknowledging my tear-blurred vision. "People like Khloe Steele, Alex."

Khloe Steele. The name that strikes fear into hearts around the country. She is the person responsible for the war that ravaged this country. A ruthless, heartless monster who had the power to destroy this country by her lonesome. I hate her. But feel like I can't help but grudgingly admire her for squashing the stereotype of women. She's got to have that credit at least.

Alex pounds on the wheel of the car with his fist, furious and upset. Brian leaves my side and walks over to Alex, talking to him in a low voice.

I walk away with a shaky exhale, further into the city. And when I finally think I'm far enough, I curl into a ball between a building and an abandoned car and allow myself to cry.

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

Hey! So, this was more of a filler chapter. My chapters have been really suck-y lately. And my timing has been awful. I'm sorry.

I'll try to update next week, but I'm going on a field trip out of state Friday, so chances are I won't be able to. I'll do my best.

Off I go, to do the usual.

-Musical_Author