Amaryllis

Chapter Ten: Bloodlines

                  Gun shots were fired, the sounds of bullets ricocheting echoed across the walls of the building. Alarm bells rang. The ten minutes were over.

                  The first thing I did was to open the box, take out the document that was enclosed inside it, fold it up and put it in my left pocket. I completely ignored the girls warning but I didn't care much for it. My mind was focused elsewhere. 

                  I felt my breathing start to hitch as I realised that I was too late. I was too late for so many reasons, including the facts that I have missed every chance of escape due to my laziness and of my arrogance. I thought that ten minutes was enough, considering that it was easy to get in and find the black box that I had been sent to look for. It is those reasons that could've lead to my capture. 

                  My biggest distraction was the teenaged girl who was currently staring at me with wide eyes as she heard the gun shots. I saw the fear in her pupils as she gaped at me. My stomach suddenly felt full and gassy from the nervousness, but I tried to ignore it.

                  If I were to be caught by the enemies' men, I would be a prisoner of theirs and they would torture me mercilessly. Memories of how the prisoners back at the institute haunted my mind. It taunted me with clear flashbacks of all the treatment that they have recieved and I have witnessed firsthand. 'Innocent until found guilty' was not a quote used by them. Rather, everyone was guilty until they have been proved innocent. Which meant that no one was exempt from having to be tortured during their interrogation. 

                  It was usually the job of the students to clean up the mess left behind from the interrogation rooms.

                  I'm not a saint, I thought about how my capture may end, and I doubt that they would be either. It wasn't going to be much of surprise if they killed me just for being 'near' the building,  let alone being the one sent to do one of the dirty jobs. 

                  I turned to look back at the teenager, taking in once again her appearance and her features. She had milk-chocolate skin, with her eyes the colour of hazlenuts which reminded me of the kind eyes my mother had once bore. Her shoulder-length hair, thick with volume, and tinted with a russet-like colour which was brighter and more visible when it hit any form of light. She wore a white blouse and simple, black jeans, matched with white trainers. She seemed somewhat familiar, but I could not pinpoint from where...

Where have I seen her before?

                  I resorted to angling my head to a side and forced a smile onto my face in an attempt to ruffle her feathers a little bit. I wasn't going to let her see that I was affected by her as I was confused over everything concerning her. Who was she? Who is she? I thought, mixing up the tenses for a reason I did not know. 

                  I needed to look like I was under control of the situation. A part of me hoped that my small gesture was going to be somewhat comforting for her, reassuring her that all was fine as it was under 'my' control, even though it wasn't. "We'll have to check out what is happening," I informed her, keeping my tone of voice as neutral as neutral could be. "It is best of we know of what we are facing," I added when I saw a look of confusion cross over face, "That is so that we are prepared for any 'surprises' they might throw at us".