CANDLES

            Another thing about Nation- why do I keep getting sidetracked? I must have ADD. Sorry, there I go again. Stay on track, Mo. Focus. Okay. Feds. The Federation. Tell them about it. The Federation runs Nation, and Feds are their soldier robots. Feds abduct little kids on the night the kids turn 11. They come randomly, and drug the family when they’re asleep. No one has ever seen a Fed take a kid. No one has ever been able to stop them. Oh, you can run, sure. Except that every Living Place is surrounded by a huge electric fence with barbed wire and large dogs. So, to turn the phrase, you can’t run but you can hide. That’s what we did with Hera. We hid for a long time, and then I bribed the Feds: I’ll get them medicine- oh-so-rare cures to not-so-rare diseases. Medicine is a hot commodity in Nation. So I give them life, they give my sister life. Win-win, right? Wrong. Sorry to rain on your illegal parade, but we still have a problem. Feds abduct kids, so what- right? Wrong again. Jeez, you’re on a roll. Feds take the kids to the Federation to be brainwashed. Then the kids come home and make their family “retire.” I don’t really know what they do, but the families of Feds always disappear.

            My dad is also part of the Resistance fighters. That’s right, the rebels in this story. There’s a rebellion to come, but just wait a bunch of chapters. We’re the good guys here. We’re the guys that know who Brill really is. And we’ll stop at nothing to defeat her. Duh, duh, DUHHHHHHHH. That was my creepy horror movie sound effects. Brought to you in part by A Crazy Evil Dictator. Enjoy your stay at Nation. 

When was the last time you did something absolutely crazy for a good reason? Because that’s pretty much what I do every day of my life. Hi, I’m Katrinella King. You must know by now who I am. Pretty much everyone does. You don’t? Interesting. I’m the one kid no one talks about. The one kid who outsmarted a Fed. Feds are the people who take the second child of every family to be brainwashed at the Federation on their 11th birthday. My little sister, Hera Carmella, was taken when she was four, because they were in need of soldiers and kids just weren’t turning 11 fast enough. I was 14 when the Feds tried to take her in the night, but I woke up. I grabbed my dad’s old hunting knife silently and stabbed every Fed in sight. Which is funny because I couldn’t actually see. But you get what I mean. That was four years ago. Now I’m 18 and I know so much more. I feel like a freaking grown up or something. Crazy.

            Now don’t get freaked out. Don’t fall over or something. I can fly. Pause for dramatic effect. There, I said it. I can fly. No wings or strings. I can also, um, control things. Make anything jump, dance, laugh, talk. You name it, I can do it to an inanimate object, and using only whatever small amount of brain cells I have knocking around inside my skull. I’m also an assassin. Yeah, you probably raised your eyebrows a bit there. I am what is called a weapons master. Give me dual swords and some poison darts and man I am rocking. Heck, give me a freaking pencil and I can turn it into your worst nightmare. You name it, I can kill with it.

            Don’t judge me- I never wanted to be an assassin in the first place. Dictator Brill E. Ante hired me- actually, it was more of blackmail. See, I blackmailed the government into letting Hera and I live in peace in our little cave-mansion, a black-mail that eventually cost me my sight. Brill agreed to let us live when she was weaker. Then she grew two and figured out two blind masterminds could play at this game. She said if I didn’t become her assassin, she’d find us and kill Hera, regardless of what I did to her precious reputation. Said of course being a hypothetical term. She never speaks, see. It’s a mind-controller thing.

            “Katrinella?” I feel my little sister, Hera, coming towards me. Her vibrations give off a weird vibe, but not one that I haven’t felt before.

            “Yeah, sweetheart?” Even assassins have hearts.

            “I had that dream again.” Hera has been having one dream: that I’m dying. Every night it’s something different, something torturous and twisted. I draw Hera closer to me and hugged her close, squeezing the fear away.

            “I’m right here, baby,” I say softly. I love her so much, it actually hurts. Hera doesn’t have any powers, nothing special about her, except that she’s the most innocent, loving, faithful, funny little beauty you’ve ever seen in your life. Which is funny, because I can’t actually see her to know whether she’s a beauty.

            “It was horrible,” Hera says, shuddering against me. I hold her even tighter, trying to fend off the fear. I can’t stand to see her this way, I really can’t. Like, literally, I can’t. Haha, you know you love my blind jokes. Hera hates when I make blind jokes. She thinks it’s not fair that I have to live without what everyone takes for granted. Straight from the eight-year-old’s mouth, I swear. I feel along Hera’s face for her tears and wipe them away.

            “You’re fine, Hera,” I say, gently pushing her off my lap and standing. “I’m right here.” I open my arms for her so I can pick her up, but Hera takes my hand and leads me to her bed. I feel for the bedcovers and hear her climb onto the springy, creaky, self-made mattress.

            “Kat?”

            “Mmm?” Hera is the only person in the world who can call me Kat. But not around Zeus, my helper dog. One whiff of the word cat and Zeus takes off, leaving me to my vibrations and solar hearing. Which are, by the way, completely trustworthy. Hera just loves having the dog around.

            “What’s it like?” She means being blind. She’s always asking me what it’s like not to see anymore. Honestly, it’s the biggest burden in the world and sometimes I can’t take the frustration that comes with a disability, but I don’t tell Hera that.

            “It’s just like being stuck in a dark room all the time,” I say, my clever backup response.

            “But what about when people stare at you? Don’t you feel nervous?” In response, I concentrate and feel the nightstand I made last year dance and smile at Hera. Just one of the perks to being a blind freakazoid assassin.

            “Honey, I can’t tell whether they’re staring at me,” I say gently. Hera giggles and my heart aches to see her face again. Hera takes my hand and places it on her face, my fingertips painting a picture of her smile.

            “I wish you could see me,” Hera says, a tiny, tiny hint of longing in her voice.

            “I wish I could see me, too, pumpkin,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “I bet I’m really pretty.” Hera laughs.

            “You are, Kat,” she says. “You’ve got big gray eyes and long, curly black hair and a pretty little nose. Your lips are perfectly pink and your ears jut out a bit, but I love them anyway.” Hera hugs me close and I smile, fighting back frustrated tears.

            “Alrighty Aphrodite, time for bed,” I say, feeling Hera leave my side and finally lie back in bed. I light the candle in her room and leave silently.

            Just as I’m closing the door, listening for the click that lets me know it’s shut, I hear them. The Feds.

            And this time, they’re coming for me.