Prolouge to a whole other story. And maybe Chapter One
This is kinda angsty and stuff. But, I'm really hoping my muse won't run out on this one and that the plot bunny that has got me this time is here to stay with it's fangs. I might throw this into a Lit Mag, if we are still doing that... Anty-ways, the summary will remain a mystery as usual...
The revolution was over. And everyone associated with it had scattered or was dead. For those who had scattered, it was most likely nothing more than a bad memory in their heads and a bad taste in their mouths. All the dead had no bodies left after the torture and only echoing shades to haunt, faintly, those alive.
It had all ended long before it could have started; that ill-fated rebellion. All closely involved at the center had signed thier lives away without ever knowing the full risk. Those at the edges could walk away in relative safety as the whole "Underground" was too far underground and under their skins for it to be found. In the end, nothing could stop what happened, even this commitment to the cause that only resulted in the taking of some of the bravest to ever walk this god-forsaken place.
Always, it brings a chill to one's skin and it is possible to feel an epheremal touch go straight to the bone and one's heart whilst walking through the empty ruins of a time and place so long gone. One can hear the blood-curdling screams when the wind blows through the trees, see the blood and grime and gore in the now-clear stream and on the stone and steel walls. One cannot truly understand what it means for something to haunt until they come to this place.
None who come here can understand that fiery lament that one can see in the tree tops if one looks. In some ways this place was timeless, but no more. The times are changing and this last bit of history that has shaped our lives without our ever knowing is leaving us behind. If they knew what they were touching, would they recoil in disgust and fear? Would they erect a mounument to those they never knew, unsung heroes? Or would they go on?
I pace here, and the bitter, painful feeling of bitter nostalgia mixed with bile comes back with a stabbing,twisting vengenance. To me, nothing hardly matters anymore. The tragedy has consumed my life until every day is a battle to even exist.Nothing remains to live for; I have nothing. All is either lost or gone, or bits of pain that I cling to as they remind me that I am still alive and in this cursed present time while I desperately try to live in the past.
This my house of horrors, my personal hell, my blood-stained guilt,and my tarnished soul. Every thing about this place burns me like an acid inside. It physically hurts to come here, so much so that I would rip my heart from my chest if I could. I cannot; I cannot any more than I could uphold my promise to never return here again.
But why stay away from something so addictive? The feelings and emotions numb my body and mind seductively, and I have no urge nor will to get away. However, I am only here to give my past one last glance and truly live in the past one more day. I'm dying, and I want to break free from the chains of this hell with the memories that have tied me to an emotional cross that is unbearably heavy.
And all I ask of you, you ruins of my soul and you shades of the past, is to hear my story one more time, although you know it so well. Who am I? Who was I? Tell me that after I have finished, as you cannot see me now and recognize me for who I once was.
Chapter 1: The Begging of the Hours
Emma stood next to her boss's office, holding a file folder and fidgeting with her dark brown pencil skirt. She was a young woman, only about 25, with long reddish brown hair and a decent sense of style. Her outfit today was simple, yet elegant, with plain brown pumps to match the skirt and a plain white button-down shirt. She worked as a secretary for Bers & Bers, a firm that bought and sold stocks on the market. Her boss, James Ber, was a man of about 50, who made shrewd decisions about everything and was rarely wrong about anything. In all honesty, Emma could hardly ask for anything more, as her pay was good and the other employees and her boss kind. She actually enjoyed this job, something which David teased her about often.
He would say, "Little sister, what do you like about scurrying around all day like a mouse, responding to everyone's beck and call?"
And she would retort," I only rush around doing what my boss tells me to." And he would just laugh and say that she was a real enigma.
For the most part, Emma had very few complaints about her life. She had a loving family and more friends than she could ever ask for. She was fairly easy going, with a strong sense of fair play and level-headedness. It was something that everyone who knew her admired her for, and made her great at settling disputes among her family and friends.
The only real complaint that Emma could dredge up on any good day was the one complaint that almost everyone she knew had and one that everyone knew they couldn't safely voice.
The government of Argentia was violent and oppressive, though it was nearly impossible to tell if one was an outsider. But the populous knew and they had a constant threat hanging over their heads. One slight misstep could lead down roads that no one dared venture, and the few who did never returned to tell the story. Fear was another constant in their lives, with all their children growing up watchful and wary of everything they did or said. Emma herself had grown up this way, with a great sense of caution forcefully drilled into her, despite her very happy home.
But Emma's home was a strange one. Her family had little fear about expressing their views about the government openly inside their house. Only when there was company that they didn't completely trust, were all these opinions brushed under the rug. As it was, all of their close friends expressed the same views as her family, and often at parties and other get-togethers, this particular topic of conversation would come up and be debated heatedly.
One of the family's closest friends, for as long as anyone could remember was the oh-so passionate Jeremy. With his long brown hair flying, his big, black eyes flashing and his large hands waving widely through the air, he would stand against the government and rail against the silent injustices and atrocities that daily went unnoticed and secretly were swept under the rug. He dazzled Emma with his passion and conviction and she supported the majority of what he said. Her closest friend, Jacquelyn, often challenged Jeremy and gave alternate points of view to go against his and make Jeremy think on his feet. Jacquelyn was like that, always challenging someone to prove themselves to her.
Jacquelyn also hated the Argentian government with a passion that rivaled Jeremy's own. With her challenges and cross-examinations, she silently urged her brother to try harder to win his cause. Emma, in her own, less challenging way, also encouraged Jeremy's revolutionary ideas.
Often she said," Jeremy, you have much more courage than me to say these things, you have to help Ryan lead us on."
And it was on this seeming mundane day at work that Emma would find out how her words had added to the catalyst that propelled the rebel in Jeremy to do what he did.
She quickly entered Mr. Bers' office as a well-dressed man, who Emma secretly suspected was a high ranking government official, stepped out. When she entered, Mr. Bers was rubbing his forehead tiredly, a frown on his face. However, when he saw Emma, his expression cleared, and he smiled.
"Ah, Ms. Munet, that's the file, I take it? Thank you very much. You can have the rest of this afternoon off. I think you deserve it. Go watch a movie or spend time with your family." His countenance softened, and Emma felt a pang of sadness for him, knowing that his whole family had died under mysterious circumstances which no one seemed to know of.
The Bers brothers had founded this company when they were still young men, and easily made it successful. Brain was the brains of the operation, while James was the common sense that made it all run smoothly. Everything seemed to be perfectly fine, until there was suddenly no Brian Bers and there were obituary notices in all the local papers for James Bers' wife and two sons, his brother and his family, and their parents. After that, James had assumed control of the company, even though rumor had it that he had been going to sell. Today it was still thriving, though not nearly as well as it was in its heyday. But James tried, and he was a kind man who seemed to be very afraid or wary of the government. He never talked about any of their decisions in the practiced, neutral tones like other people. For the most part, if a conversation started to stray towards such talk, he would be among the first to excuse himself. This sort of behavior led Emma and others to believe that his family's mass murder was related to the government.
Although the young girl was highly curious about this tired, worn man, she respected him and his privacy, and recognized that it was none of her business. As such, she did not comment on his expression when he talked about family and merely thanked him before leaving. She was not suspicious of her early release, not really, since Mr. Bers had been known to do this kind of thing before. But, if that was the case, why did she feel a tight ball of unease settling in her stomach?
Emma hurried to her car, nervous and anxious to get home. Something was about to go very wrong, and she knew it.
***
By the time she had pulled up to the driveway of her parents' house, her bad feeling had worsened. She saw Jacquelyn rushing into her car, only stopping when she realized Emma was driving in. Emma rolled down her window and leaned out, waiting for her friend to run up.
"Emma, oh thank god you don't have work, have you heard?" Jacquelyn’s grey eyes conveyed her worry and fear easily as the other girl shook her head 'no'. " There was a rebel rally in downtown. It was huge, right in the middle of Lord Square! That man, Hank, you know, the most wanted man in the whole country-? He was speaking, calling for revolution! Can you believe it-- revolution?! Anyway, I came over here as soon as I heard, because I couldn't find Jeremy. Then he calls up your dad, asking him to come pick him up from a gas station near Lord Square. I just know he was there, I just know it! He must have been one of the many who escaped before the soldiers were called in. Oh god, that idiot! What was he thinking?" cried her distressed friend.
"Let me guess, you were just going to get him," Emma said placidly, in complete contrast to what she felt inside.
"Yes, but it might be better if you do. I think I'd just slap him if I had to pick him up." Jacquelyn backed away from the car, adding, "I'll let your parents know where you went. Be careful!"
The brunette nodded as she rolled her window up and put the car in reverse. She too, felt that she might slap Jeremy when she picked him up, even though she wouldn't. Putting himself recklessly in such danger when everyone knew that unspeakable horrors happened to all who were captured and pegged as rebels against the government! She knew that it was hard to rock someone as steady as Jackie, and Jeremy had really done it this time. He'd be lucky if the black-haired girl even looked at him for the next week. Jackie was a real pro when it came to giving someone the cold shoulder and the silent treatment. Even though Emma herself was angry at Jeremy, she wasn't quite angry enough to think that he deserved the brunt of Jackie's anger.
Soon, though, she put these thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on finding the gas station Jeremy was most likely to be at. She pulled up to the first one she saw and hopped out, shuddering as she heard the screams of those fighting back uselessly against the soldiers. A wave of nausea swept her as she thought about the carnage happening just down the street and how no one was doing anything about it and how they couldn't. Disgust with herself and everyone around her rose up like a wave and tried to consume her and drag her down. She had barely made it to the doors of the convenience store when she began to retch and the screams reached a frightening crescendo. Big, warm, friendly hands grabbed her and quickly pulled her inside, pushing her below the counter so that no one could see the effect this demonstration was having on her.
Ben's comforting voice said softly," There, there, it's o.k., Emma. It's alright."
"No, Ben, it's not alright." She gasped into his chest as he shushed her, and she felt a moment of fear for her slip up. When her sobs had quieted, he slowly let her sit up, looking at her with his customary gentle concern.
"I take it you're here to get Jeremy, right?" He smiled a little to lighten the mood. Emma scrubbed furiously at her face, nodding quickly.
"Yes, yes. Oh, Ben, what are you doing down here? Don't tell me you were with Jeremy?" She stared incredulously at the usually staid Ben, who was looking sheepish and scuffing his huge feet on the floor slowly.
"Well..." he dragged out.
Emma took pity on him and quietly asked," Do you need a ride?" Brightening slightly, Ben nodded.
At that moment, Jeremy walked into the room through the back door of the gas station. Emma frowned slightly when she saw the excited look on his face. She noticed that Ben got a dark, guarded look on his face when he saw Jeremy.
"Emma, Emma. I have so much to tell you. That man, he knows what he's talking about-"
"Jeremy," rumbled Ben, "don't you think that had better wait until we get somewhere safer?"
The 25 year old paused, before catching the look on Ben's face and nodding. But nothing seemed to take away from his spectacular mood.
Once they had left downtown and were driving steadily towards Emma's parents' home, he started talking passionately. His talk scared Emma, as it was so more openly revolutionary than anything he had ever said before, and it unnerved her. He talked about organizing the effort and how he would help Ryan build the "Great Underground" and they would bide their time until they could strike. She glanced in the rearview mirror every so often to seen Ben's expression to such talk, but as night was coming on, all she could see was shadows and, more often than not, his face was turned towards the window.
Finally, she stopped at Ben's house and he got out with only a "Thanks" and then he turned and walked slowly up his front porch steps. Emma watched him for a moment, as did Jeremy.
Suddenly he said," He's wary, but he knows that this can work. "
Emma turned, surprised. "What?"
"He heard what that rebel had to say," continued the other, "He knows that with the right organization, we can manage anything. He knows we can depend on Ryan. He’s always been the most revolutionary, and the strongest of all of us. He’s a natural born leader, too. It's precarious, but it can be done. We have to try, Emma. We can't just leave this country to degenerate like this! We have to do something. We need to plan now." He paused, studying the brunette.
Emma felt his words enflame her and drive her towards a passion that felt wild and dangerous. If they could only take down this dictatorship, then no one would ever have to suffer the same street demonstrations as happened today. No more people would just disappear-. Forcefully, she mentally shook herself. She needed to think this over before she did anything to help Jeremy; and he needed to calm down before he did anything that might get him killed.
Get him killed-? She almost laughed hysterically. They were talking about revolution, and she was thinking about his getting killed. They were almost as good as dead anyway.
When they pulled up to her parents' house, they sat in silence for a long moment.
Finally, Jeremy said, "What would you give up for the world, Emma?"
And nothing seemed to matter after that.
Just wanted to let everybody know that all mistakes are mine, and LJ wouldn't let me correct 'em.