A Chapter by Faria C

§ Everyone Has a Story §


The next morning passed without incident, thankfully. I was so grateful that without incident could still exist in my life after all that had happened.


            Madison was away for most of the day. When she got back in the evening, she told me she’d been secretly visiting her grandfather in another building.


            “Are other members of your family here?” I asked her.


            “Nope. They’re all separated and who knows if they’re alive still.”


            “Um…so, your turn to tell me your story.”


            “Not much to tell. Not like yours, anyway. My whole life’s been pretty boring until I met Ian.”


            “When was that?”


            “A month ago; and then he turned.”


            Madison told me about how it had been hate at first sight between her and Ian. And then about how her grandfather had approved of him, then how Ian had saved her from the wrath of a detention by making her laugh and getting himself another detention for being rowdy.


            She told me about how her parents divorced after it stopped working out, how they were friends now. How she’d spend time at her dad’s every other weekend and Christmas and most of summer break each year. How both her parents were still single, and how she used to hope they’d get back together. Madison told me she’d “transferred” her hopes on to her little ten-year-old brother. She told me the only hope she had now was that her family survived, and that she and her grandfather got out of this camp before the end.


            And then I felt compelled to tell her of what I knew.


            “Madison, you should know…” I started.


            “You can call me Maddie.”


            “Do you mind if I call you Madison?” she shook her head. “Okay, Madison. I’m going to tell you something you can’t tell anyone else�"maybe only your grandfather, but that’s it.”


            “Okay, what is it?” she intoned impatiently.


            I related my Mrs. And Mrs. Miller story to her.


            “So, they’re planning to ‘eliminate’ the prisoners of this camp, since its prisoners are supposedly crippled, thus of ‘no use’ to them. ‘Eliminate’ is the word Mrs. Miller used, anyway.”


            “Jail-breaking something other than an iPod�"sounds fun, I’m in, and so is Grandpa,” she said. “So, what’s the plan?”


            “Um, well…”


            “You don’t have a plan.”


            “Not yet.”


            “Well, time for bed. The guards are gonna come in and check to see if everyone’s in bed or not,” she commented. “Better get to bed and discuss this tomorrow.”


            “Sounds like a plan�"for now.”


            •••                                •§•                               •••


The next day, Madison and I decided to “explore” out surroundings, possibly find a loophole in the floor plan and find a way out. Then we could escape without too much commotion�"hopefully without any gunshots, wasted or otherwise.


And we found: guards stationed everywhere. So much for outwitting them.


            The strange and even more disappointing thing was, some of those guards were human. Meaning they were traitors. Vampires didn’t usually recruit humans who were out to get them. It was only logical. But those who would betray fellow humans were recruited into their little groups�"sometimes even as privates of their army (or armies), but that was as high as a mortal could possibly get with vampires. The highest honour for humans in league with them was the lowest rank in their armed forces.


            And then it happened.


            We were heading back to our assigned prison cell space, when we heard the fateful words.


            “So, be ready to book it the moment Andrew and Ian surprise-attack those b******s.”


            My ears perked up for two reasons: the fact that I hadn’t heard someone other than myself say “Andrew” in what seemed like ages; and the content of the utterance itself�"two guys were going to start a fight, and others were going to run.


            Similarly, Madison’s ears perked up, at hearing the name “Ian.” And of course, the whole running-from-here plan.


            The two of us looked at each other, then she bolted to our room; I followed.


            “What was that all about?” I asked irritably.


            “They’re hatching a better, badass-er plan than us, that’s what,” she answered.


            “I meant, why’d you run away from me?”


            “Not from you, I was leading you away from there so we could discuss our own plan and connect it to the master plan that they came up with.”


            “Do you know the people who were talking about it?”


            “No�"but I will, child. Very soon.”


•••                                •§•                               •••


“So…?” I asked, excited to hear what she’d discovered.


            Madison had gone to a different building that those people had apparently been housed in�"strictly forbidden�"in the name of “saving our souls.” Seriously, those had been her exact words. Meanwhile, I’d been forced to stay on my part of the bunk bed, waiting anxiously for her to return and feeling helpless about not being able to help.


            Madison’s pale blue eyes looked so blank, it struck something inside my heart that either those plan-hatchers or a vampire had done something to her. My stomach twisted in fear as my heart sank. I shouldn’t have let her do this alone; I should’ve insisted to come along with her.


            “Maddie?” I called quietly, not catching myself in time to realize I’d called her by her preferred nick name.


            “I’m fine,” she stated robotically. “It’s Ian.”


            “What happened to him?” I asked, afraid of knowing the answer.


            “I mean, it’s Ian. As in, the ‘Ian and Andrew’ who they were saying planned to attack a weak human guard.”


            “Human guard?” I repeated, missing the point. “Wait. You mean…”


            “My Ian is in this camp, and he’s planning to create a distraction so people can get out. Those guys said their plan out loud so I’d hear it and count myself in�"that’s what Ian told them to do.”


            “Aw, that’s so sweet of him�"”


            “Why are you such a girl?” she demanded.


            “What did you think I was?” I retorted. “You think it’s cute, too.”


            “Whatever. They won’t let me see him. They think I’ll try to stop him from going ahead with it.”


            “Does he know you’re in this building?”


            “No; he told everyone in on his plan to speak loudly of it if they see a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing this ring.”


            She held up her left hand, and I saw the sapphire-on-silver ring on her index finger. I was about to ask a question when she answered it in her next words.


            “He knows I never take it off.”


            “It must be something special,” I commented; then it hit me like a meteor on my thick head. “Wait. He gave you this ring, didn’t he? As, like, a promise ring?”


            “No,” she answered sarcastically. “It’s a purity ring�"what did you think, genius?”


            “Aw, how�"”


            “Lay off; he’s mine,” she joked.


            “Don’t worry; I’m not looking for romance right at this moment.”          


© 2013 Faria C

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Added on January 14, 2013
Last Updated on January 14, 2013


Faria C
Faria C

Wouldn't you like to know , Canada

When someone asks me to tell them about myself, I panic and have a little identity crisis where I wonder, "Oh God, who am I?!" Bruh, don't do that to me. Well, I'm Faria (which rhymes with "area").. more..