Cerrigwen

There's a girl I know. She looks just like me. The same emaciated body that used to be well-fed, same lank black hair that was wavy at some point, skin that used that used to be a healthy light brown, now dull and dirty. She speaks to me sometimes and I'm always confused. Because her voice comes out of my mouth. 

I call her Sana and today, Sana is very angry at me. She tries to make me believe things that aren't true.

I'm dead, you're dead, we're all dead, so why does it matter?  She tells me this time and I immediately know she's lying. I'm not dead and she's not dead. But they will be when I escape. 

If I ever escape. 

Sometimes I feel like I'm in someone else's head. Like when Lena (a frail lady with greying hair who hobbles around on a cane) comes in every week to ask me questions. Sometime's it feels like, I'm the one asking questions. 

I stop myself from thinking, then I immediately smack my head because I can never stop thinking. 

So I think. I think until it dawns on me that I have been in this room for fourteen years. One tiny room with white walls, a white floor, and a white ceiling, sitting on a creaky metal bed with white sheets, wearing nothing but a thin white shift.

I decide that I hate white.

There's a camera in the top right corner of the room, but I know that no one's watching. No one cares.

You should do it. Sana encourages. You could fry it and get out of here.

But I can't do that. It's not my power and I hate myself for it. But this is all just a fraud. When I get out, I'm going to reign fiery hell through this accursed rock. 

A woman interrupts my thoughts as she barges into my cell unannounced. It's not Lena this time so I crouch in the corner and pull the thin blanket over me. "Who are you." My voice comes out muffled from the sheets. 

"My name is Aida, but that is not important. Someone's here to see y-" 

"Am I finally getting out?" I interrupt her. She makes a sour face and opens her mouth to say something that she never gets to finish. 

Because my brother walks into the room. "Hello, my dear sister." He sing-songs and I shiver. "It's coronation day, you know?" His voice is playful and cruel. Atlas is his name, named after the Titan god of endurance. It fits him well.

"Where's Lena?" I inch farther back. 

His laugh makes my skin crawl. "I found the traitor sending letters to her little rebel friends, so I took care of her. I carved her up myself. Just for you." He walks closer to where I'm pressed up against and yanks my blanket away in one clean move. 

"Anyway, I came to inform you that you are required for the ceremony." 

"What?" Disbelief is evident in my voice.

"I know, right?" He says maliciously. "Juno's handmaiden got sick last minute and has no one to do her hair. Father thought it would teach you how to speak to your superiors, so you can do it for her. Came as a shock to me too. I for one opposed it. You'd be too much of an embarrassment, but father insisted. You know how he can be."

"No. I don't." I grind out. 

"I have no time for this. I'm taking you with me."

"No!" I shriek but he grabs my arm and hoists me over his shoulder like a sack. 

"Shut up, kid." He growls. Liar. I'm twenty, hardly a kid. 

In the end, I'm thrown into another room with a short girl with long curly brown hair. My half-sister Juno who's turning fourteen in two months. She hands me a brush and I begrudgingly pick it up. She's the only one I can tolerate here. Once in a while, she comes to see me in my prison, bringing me things like puzzles and the occasional news feed, to keep me sane. 

Yeah, right. I tell myself.

It's not really her. Sana tells me. It's another monster with a mask that looks like her.

I tell her to shut up and the scary thing is that I almost believe her. 

Juno leans into my ear as she hands me the brush and whispers, "I'll get you out, I promise." For a moment, I hate her. I hate that I have to depend on a privileged brat to get myself out. But then one look at her innocent face is all it takes for me to know that she hasn't been corrupted by the horrors of the Koros Dynasty. 

I motion for her to turn around so I can brush her hair. "You know the drill right? We've been through it many times." 

I nod. "You're taking a big risk by helping me." 

"Nothing I wouldn't do." She says brightly. "Just wait for my signal and take the Underground. It'll be fine." I start braiding her hair into a crown braid.

"What would that signal be?"

"You'll know when you see it." She grins.

I can't say that I'm not scared. I have never been out of this manor since I was born. And I have never been out of that room since today. 

"Don't make eye contact with anyone there. When you reach Esparos, find the market and ask for a woman named Sloane. She'll guide you from there." I finish off the braid and secure it with some pins.

I smile sadly. "This will be the last time I ever see you again, won't it?" She clutches my hands. 

"I'm afraid this could be the last time we ever meet face-to-face, yes." 

"Thank you,"I say and her eyes crinkle as I make my way towards the door. 

"Have a good life." She says solemnly as the door closes behind me and two red-armored guards come to take me back to my cell. 

I lie there for what seems like hours as the minutes tick by. Boredom turns into annoyance. Annoyance turns into suspicion. Suspicion turns into anger. Now I'm furious. Was Sana right? Was Juno just pretending to help me so she could give me away to Atlas? 

BOOM. And the walls explode into a million pieces. So this was Juno's signal, almost whooping in joy I dig my nails into my palms. I keep noticing that I'm always almost doing things. The smell of smoke fills the air, threatening to strangle anyone who crosses its path.

Told you. I tell Sana smugly and she scowls. I get up on shaky legs. My knees are skinned raw and my dress is scorched. Something wet is dripping from my left ear so I bring my hand up to it and feel blood.

I try my best to run. The smoke fumes are not as unbearable anymore. 

I slip to the ground. NO, I yell in my head. After everything, I'm not going to die when I'm this close to freedom. It's then, that I can feel it: Power. 

It strums to life beneath my veins as I call upon it, giving me the strength to keep going. 

Right foot forward. Left foot forward. Right foot. Left foot. Right. Left. Step-by-step, I keep walking towards the door. Limping is more like it. My power may be strong, but I haven't grasped full control of it, even after secretly training and nurturing it for years.

It doesn't matter anymore because as I inch towards that door, I know what I've gained: Freedom. And I'm never going to let anyone take that from me ever again.