Chapter Eleven

2.9K 66 11
                                    

I HEARD THE MUFFLED MOANS and groans before I saw the persons. I tried to hide my grimace when I saw how badly they were injured.

I walked near one of them. He was probably the same age as me. But he didn't seem to notice me - too busy stifling his moans of pain. I looked at the blood-soaked material of his pants. I scanned my memory what to do first.

"First, you have to keep calm."

I heard Silvia's voice in my mind clearly as if she was standing behind me.

So I tried to keep calm.

Keep calm.

Plan quickly what you need to do.

Seek for help.

Be an encouragement.

I breathed in and out before I approached the boy, the smell of blood entering my nostrils and I crinkled my nose at the pungent odor.

"Hello," I said. Maryse appeared beside me again.

"Hey, big bro," she said. She looked and sounded full of worry and concern for her brother. She raised a shaky hand and swept the hair on her brother's forehead to the side. "You'll be fine. America is here to help." She then faced me. "Tell me what you need. I'll get it."

Second step: Plan quickly what you need to do.

Third step: Seek for help

Analyzing the situation in front of me, I told Maryse, "Get me a knife first."

"Knife?" She looked at me in disbelief. "You're not going to kill Luke, are you?" Now she looked at me warily as she took a step in between me and Luke. I almost chuckled.

I shook my head. "No, I won't. I said I will help, did I not?"

"I guess." She shrugged.

"So please go get me a knife."

When Maryse came back with a knife, I held the tool in my shaky hand, willing myself to be steady.

Be an encouragement.

I breathed in deeply again, the scent of iron perceptible in the area. "Don't worry," I said, looking into Luke's eyes. He had a grimace on but he still nodded. "You'll be fine," I promised.

I looked down to resume my work. I ripped the material of his pants open, exposing a long deep gash. I gulped to hide a gag. "Maryse. Water."

Maryse went and came back with a pail of water. I started cleaning the wound before aiding it.

I'm glad that Sylvia's lessons finally paid off.

***

"America, wake up!" Someone was shaking me. I opened my eyes and groaned at how bright the sunlight was. "Do you want some brunch?" It was Maryse.

I sat up properly to make myself more comfortable. I nodded at Maryse then glanced around. I was in the hovel, leaning against the wall. I must have fallen asleep after the exhausting aiding.

When Maryse held out her hand, I took it and pulled to stand up. She led me out to the seashore and we washed our hands. "I went fishing earlier and got you a fish, too. I figured you might want some," she said.

"I do," I said and took the cooked fish from her. As I got settled beside her facing the sea, I asked her, "So, how does it feel like to be a rebel?"

She shrugged. "It's hard to explain. Do you know the feeling when someone tells you to do something and you don't obey just because you don't want to? It's something like that. Except, in our case, this is a serious note. We fight for what we think is right and just. We do not take what we have for granted bevause we know that people starve and die in vain. While they - the Three and above - they just throw things and foods away as if it's nothing important."

I nodded. I was beginning to understand how the rebels felt by then. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Since birth. My parents were secret rebels. They were Sevens. They brought our family into the rebellion and I thank them for that. If I'm not here now, I would have to find the rebels one way or another just to join them." She cleared her throat and changed the subject, shifting the topic from her to me. "What about you, princess? How does it feel?"

"I am not the princess, Maryse. And being an Elite is just full of pressure. It may seem easy, but it's not."

"Not yet the princess, of course. But you will be. The rebels will make sure of that, I believe."

"But why?" I asked. I was confused. Why would they want me to be the princess? They know I'm incapable of being the princess, right? And how could they make sure of that?

Why would they be willing to help someone impertinent into being a leader of a whole country when she herself cannot even make absolute decisions? And that someone is, apperently, me.

The answer came not a second later.

"Because you are our hope."

The One (A Selection Fan Fiction)Where stories live. Discover now