He Is My Lighthouse

The Oppressed Turned Into The Oppressor

It was grusome. There was no turning back. I was doomed.

******

My breath was short as I tried desperately to inhale as calmly as I could. My lips were scorched with the desire for even the smallest drop of water to cool them of their despair. I was exasperated with both anger and fear. Taking a few steps at a time, I stalled for more time as I attempted to convince myself that everything would be alright.

Fear had parallysed my entire body, leaving my options even more limited and complicated than before. I needed to calm down, but I knew that with my condition it would be nearly impossible.

"Hey you get over here! What do you think you're doing!"

To my utter amazement, he managed a whisper with more menacing words. Yet, he delivered them in a relaxed and soothing tone, a complete opposite to his usual way of delivering orders. Lingering on to his words, for a moment it seemed as if everything was like it used to be; like all would be well. Like there was still hope.

******

His fingertips were a closer approximation now. I could almost feel he's delicate touch over my small and unattractive features. With each of his movements, I could hear his pulse quicken and his breath shorten. In some ways we were both alike; we were both terrified of what was going to happen. But for the most part, we were as polar as day and night, water and fire, good and evil. He was desperate for exigency, and the only way to get out of it was through me. He thought I could help. He was used to getting all of the desires of his heart at  the snap of a finger. I was merely a pawn in a very large and intricate game of chess that he needed to use to win what he wanted. I knew this and he knew that I knew this and yet I gave him what he wanted.

His eyes were a deep aquatic blue with small shades of a piercing emerald green that appeared only in the summer time. His smile could intoxicate me in a matter of seconds, seeing as his adorable dimples and pearly whites made him seem so innocent and kind at the time. He had a muscular and tan structure and he was almost as tall as a skyscraper. I used to think that everything about him was perfect. But as I learned over time, no human being can or will ever be perfect. Not even him.

*****

"Number 63, get over here and be quick about it."

As I stumbled over the large and bruising chains attached to my legs, I managed to crawl over to the commander, without so much as a casual glance directed back at him. I needed to be obedient and attentive to anything the commander said. It was my only chance of making it out alive.

"Number 63, due to your rare and "unique" act of betrayal, you are responsible for the new arrivals. It will be your job to inform them of all of the rules, regulations and consequences that will fall upon them if they choose to continue rebelling against our forces."

"Sir please don't punish me in this way, can't you choose someone else. I've only been here for a couple of weeks.  One of the more experienced culprits would be better suited for this job."

"You will do as you're told and if you choose to be disobedient.... you know what will happen to Zita."

"Yes Sir...... your wish is my command."

****

"Where's my mommy? I'm so scared!"

"I want to go home; why am I here?"