Fault [on hold]

Two

I wake up at five in the morning. It takes about thirty minutes to arrive at Nicolette’s by foot, so I use fifteen minutes to quickly slip into casual clothes, brush my teeth, and comb my hair. It’s a relief that I remembered to take a shower before I slept yesterday. If I had forgotten about it, my tresses would be oily right now.

   I tiptoe down the stairs, careful not to make loud noises. I wince at even the smallest sounds. I slip my feet into my shoes and turn the doorknob, cautiously opening the door. Stepping outside, I let out a quiet groan at the hot temperature and humid air.

   I turn and make sure that Reagan is not awake before starting to jog lightly. I glance at my car. It’s expensive and gorgeous - white, elegant, yet simple, with black tinted windows. I rarely drive it, since my mother bought it for Aline on her fourteenth birthday. It feels weird to sit on the driver’s seat, when the vehicle itself wasn’t intended for me.

   Closing my eyes, I inhale slowly. Almost every single memory of my life includes her. Anywhere I look, I remember the moments we shared in those places, novels we read together, and songs we sang together. When she perished, she left so many traces of her behind. I want these flashes of her to go away. Deep inside, I know a part of me doesn’t want to believe in the fact that Aline is dead. A part of me doesn’t want to let go.

   But I have to let go.

   I begin to sprint and challenge myself. It has been a long time since my last run. My muscles start to protest as I force my legs to run faster and faster. I used to be much better - I could run for a few hours in a row without halting. I wipe a trickle of sweat off my forehead. My shallow breaths and aching legs only prove my physical deterioration.

   The routes I have to take in order to reach Nicolette’s are very complicated. It is the insurgents’ usual meeting spot, and was the rendezvous point in the latest rebellion attack. I discreetly look behind my back before increasing my speed.

     After a few minutes, I stop for a break in a dark alley, resting my hands on my knees. The shadows and shade provide cool winds as I pant for air. “I should take morning runs from now on,” I mutter. “This is pathetic.” I’m frustrated with myself for not being able to regain my past abilities.

   I should have never been weak. I should have never let myself break because of Aline. Now all I am is a girl who can’t be perfect or normal. A person who can’t fit into any society.

   I used to be one of the prodigies of the insurgents.

   I doubt that I even believe in the cause of the insurgents anymore. When Aline found about the rebels, she was excited. She was questioning herself if she truly strived for perfection like all the others.

   Aline had been tired of our parents’ and society’s expectations. I supposed that the same had applied to me, but I’d always blindly followed Aline without thinking deeply about what I wanted. I believed that she and I would always agree and support the same thing.

   Now I ask myself, because I don’t have Aline to depend on anymore - was I ever a true rebel?

   I shake my head. All of it is in the past. I check my wristwatch. Five forty. I will need about five more minutes to reach Nicolette’s if I push myself even further. I begin to turn around on my heels with newfound determination until I hear an unfamiliar male’s voice behind me. “Don’t move.”

   I freeze immediately, gritting my teeth. My eyes widen as I feel a gun being pressed to the back of my neck. A soldier. I clench my fists. I don’t understand why he is here. Soldiers visit the area once in six months to check for suspicious activity, but other than that, it’s uncommon for them to be here.