[E D I T E D]

KILL YOUR MIND
❝life is simply a mix of mayhem and magnolias, so embrace this gentle riot and gather flowers along the way.❞

00. Everlasting Escapee

AT FIFTEEN YEARS OLD, Elizabeth Tyler could not see past the end of the year. She simply couldn't. A future just hadn't seemed like an option back then because every time the girl had tried to push herself into what she imagined herself to be like in a years time: all she could see was an unforgiving black void of empty. It had seemed pointless for her to hold onto the immature hope of being rescued because, at the end of the day, hope only bred disappointment, and Elizabeth had felt enough of that to last her till the end of her pitifully short life. So when she was asked, aged seventeen, by S.H.I.E.L.D's head psychological assessor:
'What had you imagined your future to be like when you were in that situation?'
Elizabeth Tyler struggled for the correct words.

How could she ever begin to describe the utter lonely black hole that had been her idea of a future without sounding as though she was only one more shit day away from flinging herself over Tony Stark's balcony? It seemed absolutely pointless to try and detail the endeavors that she imagined so instead, she had kept her mouth shut, broke eye contact, and waited for the next question to be asked.
The evaluation came to an end shortly afterwards.
The memories didn't.

At fifteen years old, lying on a mattress saturated with both blood and dirt, Elizabeth Tyler had finally understood the idea that not everyone was cut out for living on Earth. Even as a child, when hope had slipped from her heart with an unnatural ease that matched her wit, she had never seen herself as an old woman. Hell, she hadn't seen herself past the age of twenty. Yet, perhaps this were normal for a child of her age. After all, not many children ponder too heavily on their future afflictions. However, as she laid back on the mattress she had slept on for three hundred and seventy one days, she kept count, and imagined how her life could continue on from that moment, nothing seemed to slot into realistic scenarios whilst still retaining positivity. Every end result seemed to leave her wishing for another. Then again, when had anything left her truly satisfied?

There was a time that she could remember being happy.
A pure, childlike, type of happy that could only be seen throughout ones early childhood. It was the kind of happiness that could only be retained until a certain birthday before it crumpled at the seams. She remembered the day that feeling became just a memory. In fact, she was nearly one hundred percent sure she knew the exact time on the clock when it had been erased. She had been ten. Still far too young to be subject to such an wounded heart but she could hardly change that now. It had taken a lot out of her, however, to continue without the gentle ease of that purity. Over the years, the idea of survival had simply become more important than that previous illusion of happiness; one of the main reasons as to why she had made it this long. Girls rarely lasted a few months in the depths. They were too soft. To survive nearly a year, well, it was hardly a sought after achievement, but she had done it nevertheless. She had survive three hundred and seventy one days in that squalor.

At fifteen years old, lying on her mattress, she couldn't help but wish she hadn't.

It hadn't appeared to be a very memorable day for fifteen year old Elizabeth. The same cycle continued: the sun still came up, the grass continued to grow, the earth still span, she was still forced to leave the feeble safety that her well-earned mattress had provided a total of three times, but to seventeen year old Elizabeth? That day would mark the beginning of the light days.
The end of the dog days. The start of her hope. The build up to new family and friends.
The beginning of her reign.

That night had begun like every night before hand. She had heard the sound of girls alongside her be dragged from the hellhole they were held in, a sound that after months of hearing was no longer as agonizing as it should have been, just like any other night. The sounds of sobs knowing of the pain to come. A sob that no longer came from Elizabeth Tyler's mouth. After all: how can you sob when you have nothing left inside of you asides from static? And nothing seemed to change. The lights were still dimmed, the eight girls surrounding Elizabeth still stared catatonically, the walls were still dirty and nothing seemed to be any different.

That was until a girl, far younger than Elizabeth, stumbled into the room with tear stained cheeks.
The girl could have only been eight at most.
Being the farthest from the door, something that decreased your chance of being selected significantly due to general lack of visibility in the low lighting, Elizabeth watched as the child fell in a heap merely a foot away from the now closing door. By rule of thumb, Elizabeth had vowed never to allow herself to empathise with the others surrounding her. She knew all too well that it could only bring heartache and further grief. It wasn't a particularly hard rule to follow. Her place in the furthermost corner of the room acted more as a bubble. Getting a bed away from the door was something that got earned as girls left, the new comers slept next to the door and as people leave, or most likely are traded, places are swapped, thus why Elizabeth had gotten the golden spot. She had watched every one of the eight girls in which she had originally been cohabitating with leave and be replaced. Sometimes they'd leave quietly. Elizabeth used to always notice when someone left but as time wore down, only the loudest of the departures were noticed. Either way the girl would leave: loud or not.

The newest girl was a mess. Sobbing hysterically, snot running down her face, clawing at the locked metal slab that acted as a door with a desperately red face, and only pity could be felt for her.

Now Elizabeth Tyler hadn't survived by being nice. She had stayed cold, emotionless, and she was pretty sure she hadn't spoken to anyone in over one hundred and twenty one days. She hardly knew how much of her was left; even the voice inside of her head had gone frightening quiet twenty three days ago. She had seen girls far younger than herself get stolen away into the room and had refrained from sympathising, sure she had felt it but it was protect yourself or die in there, yet there had been something so desperate about the girl. Everything about her screamed out in fear and it was no secret to Elizabeth that younger girls were typically favourites amongst the sickest of the sick.

With sad eyes concealed, Elizabeth Tyler watched as the sobbing turned into exhausted splutters of despair, dry heaving at times, and she just couldn't help herself. God fucking damn it, everything inside of her screamed to protect. Now, perhaps it were motherly instinct, or maybe she had just been feeling soft that day, but either way, she had still felt the distinct need to comfort. Elizabeth hadn't ever experienced an emotion of such strength before, vocal chords already contracting in spite of her not consciously wanting to, and she couldn't help but morbidly hope that she wasn't suffering from pregnancy hormones.

❝Hey!❞

She harshly whispered, as softly as she could muster, but her voice box still cracked painfully from its disuse. The girls around them didn't even flinch, too far gone in either tending to each others wounds or reminiscing to bother to look up, but the girl by the door immediately sought out the voice. Her eyes were wide, filled to the brim with both tears and a childlike fear that Elizabeth hadn't seen in a while. The girls here were usually not new to the situation, already being traded a few times previously, and so most entered the room already numb.
❝Over here. No, here.❞
The moment the girl realized who had said it, when their eyes met for a few moments and Elizabeth nodded her head, she quickly scrambled over before crawling onto the mattress and shaking at her side.

❝What's your name?❞
Elizabeth whispered out, watching as the girl tried to get closer into her side as though she wanted to be totally surrounded by a familiar figure. It seemed as though the girl hadn't heard her, either that or she wasn't going to answer, but after a few minutes of only the sounds of the girls around them vacantly mumbling reassurance to one another, gentle fingers grazing though hair, rations of food being split, and the small child's harsh breath - there was finally a tiny mumble.
❝Pardon?❞ Elizabeth said roughly,
❝Katherine. My name is Katherine.❞ She said breathlessly in an ever dwindling voice.
❝Got a last name?❞
❝I don't remember my last name. I...I can't remember anything.❞
She said, her face scrunching up in sadness as she began to weakly sob into her arms,
❝It's okay.❞
Elizabeth mumbled into her hair, willing herself to soothe the young girl, feeling herself naturally calm her, as though it were second nature, as though they were meant to be together.
❝You can have mine, yeah? How about that?Katherine Tyler. Doesn't sound too bad does it?❞

And despite it being such a dark memory, of a time Elizabeth Tyler wished deeply to erase, even whilst eating alongside Earth's mightiest heroes feeling finally at peace at age seventeen, Elizabeth Tyler remembered the memory with a vague fondness, remembering the girl that was long gone. Remembering the night she decided she had to escape.

The night she sealed her fate.