Freedom

Chapter 12: Yasmin

I suddenly awoke to the sound of alarms. Had I been asleep? Trent was lying on the floor, rubbing his ankle. It looked awful, like it was broken.

"What's happening?" I asked him drowsily.

"They're going to test us, nothing to worry about."

I snorted. How would he know.

A large man came to our door.

"Get out of here now. Follow me." he shouted.

"I can't, my ankle's broken." Trent pleaded. The man walked over to him and yanked him up. Trent screamed in agony as his whole body was supported on his broken ankle.

"Trent!" I ran over to him to let him lean on me. I placed my arm around his waist and his arm slung over my shoulder. He was warm and smelt good, like cinnamon. But no matter how much his prescence comforted me, I still hated him with a burning passion.

The man led us down the corridor. A swarm of the other prisoners were already headed down there, even women and children. Everyone looked starved and filthy and scared. How long had they been here? What were they doing to these people? What purpose would innocent people like this serve them? As we were walking along with the crowd, we saw Alexis in the mix.

"You! Dude!" Trent shouted and jolted as he was about to run over to him.

"No! Are you mad, you've got a fricking broken ankle!" I yelled as I tried to restrain Trent.

As we walked past the Alexis, he seemed calm enough until he spat on Trent. I felt my heart start to race as I stared at Alexis's perfect face. His features were strong yet beautiful. I realised I needed to snap out of this. I can't keep admiring this guy. He was evil. He was one of them.

Alexis and Trent looked at each other with disdain. If all those people hadn't been there, a brutal fight would've broken out.

Everyone was huddled together, some people crying as they feared what was going to happen to them. Trent squeezed me tighter as we walked.

We all crowded into a modern looking room with rows and rows of seats. The ceilings were high and the room was bright and open. It felt so different to the stink hole we had just come from. Soft, red, plush seats awaited us all and we streamed in the rows to take a seat. Why did they have a room like this? What was the point? Maybe its used to convince outsiders that this place was legitimate. Maybe they even held conferences here. With the government. If the government was involved in all this, what was our society becoming?

I helped Trent ease into a seated position. His face strained as he tried to contain the pain. A middle aged man stood at the front. He looked very sophisticated with a suit and tie and gelled back black hair. His face was clean shaven and his eyes were dark and mean. He had a blank look on his face as he began to speak.

"Hello everyone, and welcome... Oh wait, I won't waste my breath on you people." he chuckled darkly at what he thought was a hilarious joke. "We're going to test you right now, see if you're good enough to be with us, the best of the best. Don't worry, it won't hurt...much." he smirked.
Some men emerged from doors on either side of where the sophisticated man stood. They grabbed some people, one at a time, and dragged them back into the door. Everyone started murmuring in fear.

"Are you okay Yasmin?" Trent's voice sounded like he genuinely cared about me.

"I'm fine." I replied coldly without looking at him. He touched my shoulder.

"What have I said before! Don't touch me!" Why was Trent treating me so kindly? I was certainly making it clear how much I hated him. But sometimes, you can only feel so much hatred before it has no meaning. All it was doing was hurting me. I realised I couldn't develop any feelings for anyone in this place, hatred or love. The only person I needed to focus on was myself.

We then waited in silence, for our turn. It felt like an eternity. People returned from their tests with a frightened face. They were escorted back to their rooms by more men. It was strange to see even the toughest looking men returning with fear in their eyes. I dreaded my turn. I wasn't strong. All my life I've put up a mask to people, pretending I am. But the truth is, I'm not strong. I don't know if I can handle this any longer.

There weren't many people in the room, about ten others now. The numbers were slowly dropping. My palms started sweating as I sat anxiously in anticipation for what lay ahead of me. I wiped my hands on my legs and started fidgeting around, trying to calm myself. I felt like crying. I felt a hand grasp mine. Trent's. Our fingers interlocked and I squeezed his hand gently. Despite how I felt about him, he made me feel better.

"Stay strong, Yasmin. You can do this," he whispered.

"I don't think I can," my voice wobbled.

Before I could say anything more, a man approached me.

It was my turn.