Fire

1472 Words3 Pages

The first time I killed, I was sick at myself, cried even, thinking I would never be worthy of forgiveness, but how could I help myself when killing was bound to me by nature? I was eight then. I had never intended to hurt my brother's scrawny, street-born dog. No matter how much I despised it. Toby named him Paris, a suggestion from Maura who claimed it used to be a big city from the Old days. Even now I still remember him with lively accuracy, the coal black color of its short fur, and its long brawny body with disproportional short legs. Especially I remember how he ran away from me, whimpering whenever I walked into the room as if he was... scared.

One afternoon, when the cold of the winter was starting to settle upon the edges of the village like a silent shadow, my brother left with Maura to the market for some groceries. Little Mathias was asleep in his bedroom, and I had already bored my mind off with no one to play with. Then I heard him. Paris had come into the room, barking mad as soon as he laid eyes on me. His loud howls hitting at my nerves like needles. I stood up warning him to be quiet, but he would not listen. I remember my temper suddenly slipping off. He was almost as big as me, but when I knelt down to scold him, accumulated anger in my eyes, I couldn’t stop myself. I wrapped my hands around his neck as he tried to run away and for a second all I saw was terror before I watched life drain out of his body. Maura and Toby arrived just minutes later to find me sobbing uncontrollably in the floor, not being able to look at the dead body a few feet away. The terrified expression in Maura's eyes and the bitterness underneath, still seem to haunt me, her thoughts clear to me as glass, monster. Besides that I cannot...

... middle of paper ...

...eath in an intimidating way. I gulp. Custodians permanently guard the gate ensuring no one enters or passes without authorization. Glancing down I look at the metallic device shaped like a diamond ingrown on my right wrist. This thing constrains me to the hell this nation has become. Its name is S.D.T. for System Device Tracker; or tracker for short. Every person within the boundaries of anything owned by the Republic has the same device, connecting us all to them. Its purpose is to protect us and to control us. Tracking our every movement and sending signals whenever we make something we shouldn’t do or go somewhere we shouldn’t be. But even the Republic makes mistakes. There is a flaw in the system that allows the user to access an Emergency Option menu with the right code or an illegal home fix that can shut the device from 1 to 3 hours. I already took care of it.

More about Fire

Open Document