The Renegade Chronicles

Renegade: Chapter Fifteen

My second day as a Democrat was welcomed by a dark chilly morning and the loud growling snores of Christopher on my left and Brandon on my right. By the looks of it, they both had no intention to wake up yet. My memory of what happened last night when I went back inside room 73 was hazy. Maybe I was just too tired, or my mind was fully occupied by what Commander Hilda revealed to me. Unfortunately, with my stomach grumbling, I was not able to get back to bed. Back when I was in our Concepcion base, we were woken up around seven in the morning to eat breakfast together. But somehow, the Mansion's way of handling meals were new to me, and honestly, my stomach did not like it.

My God! I said to myself. When do these people actually eat their breakfast? I may not have a watch, but my instincts say that the time is already around seven!

My thoughts predicted that maybe we would eat our breakfast by nine or ten in the morning. So in order to keep myself entertained, I decided to get up, fold my blanket and roam around the Mansion. In that way, I may be hungry in my stomach, but at least I would be full by my sights.

With the black cape attached on my back, I walked silently through the Serenity Hallway and headed towards the white marbled staircase. With a lot of people around, I stopped in the middle of the Golden Hall and looked around to appreciate the splendid moment.

Then after five minutes, I decided to walk through the left marbled staircase and head further towards this white colored hallway called Equality. What made it similar with the Serenity Hallway were the black colored banners which were hung on the ceilings. On the sides of the hallway were grey colored doors which I guessed were also rooms for the other Democrats. Despite all these features, the thing that made this hallway interesting was the huge painting of a man which was about on his early Thirties. I stood in front of that painting and examined the details of its masterpiece.

With a Caucasian look, the guy had a straight black hair and brown colored eyes. He had a pinkish lips that was partially covered by a thick mustache. He wore a brown suit which was paired with a white silky tie. Then, as I looked on the upper right of the painting, I realized that the person in the painting was no other than Miguel, the son of the Democrat founders Eliza and Fidel. As I looked below the painting, my whole face was puzzled as I looked at the lighted candles and bouquet of flowers which were neatly placed on top of the black tilled floor.

Oh this is really disturbing, I said to myself.

"Today marks his death anniversary." A sweet feminine voice was heard from my back. Upon hearing this, I was quite startled that she somehow knew the question currently bugging my mind.

As I looked back, I felt my insides explode and my hunger somehow was lifted as I realized that it was no other than—

"H-H-Hazel... What brings you here?" I asked quite startled.

"Oh just like the others, I came here to honor Miguel for his heroic acts. A little prayer will do," Hazel answered as she looked at me with her blue eyes. "He may be dead, but his legacy remains."

"Y-Y-You surely love him, don't you?" I asked, trying my best to suppress the feelings that needed to be suppressed.

"Yes," She smiled as she looked at the painting.

The next moment, I did not know if I was just crazy or an abrupt gentleman that somehow I finally couldn't resist to hide this tingling feeling any longer. My conscience had been fighting its reasons for quite some time now, and encouragingly, as if they knew that that moment was blessed with the right moment, these reasons pulled me to say something quite embarrassing. But I knew was worth a try. I looked at Hazel, quite unsure how many minutes had passed since I had my tedious mental meeting.