I was walking down the back roads from work, heading towards home, like I always did. When They came.
Probably the hardest thing for me to accept now is how normal everything had seemed. I was just the average twenty-one year old girl trying to make a name for herself. But They came and my normal life vanished. I will never forget that night and how everything changed so quickly. How I changed. Not just my appearance, but my personality and how I viewed life and all of humanity. I am no longer innocent and naïve. I am alert and distrustful. I've been trained to think everyone's intentions are to harm me. I have often wondered if these changes weren't for the best. What if these changes make me no better than Them? Well, it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing will matter anymore, as long as I follow through with the plan. My two blonde servants barge in interrupting my train of thought. I see the one on the rights lips move but I can't hear what she is saying. I assume its time, time to prepare me for the plan.
I wish I could tell all you readers who "They" are and what the "plan" was, but I can't bring myself to write it. Not yet; soon, but not yet.
Its funny how much fear and pain can be hidden behind such simply words. As my servants wordlessly undress me and draw my bath I realize for the six months I've been here and these young ladies have served me I have never cared enough to ask for their names. I have taken the blondes for granted, wrapped up in my own misery and suffering. I didn't even begin to think that just maybe the blondes have suffered just as much as I have, maybe more. After all we are in the middle of a war and the blondes are under the service of Them. I feel a small pain in my chest, spreading from the center of my heart. It was guilt. A feeling I've gotten a little too use to. The guilt in my heart makes me think of all of the things I have ever wished I could re-do or re-live, but why now? Why is all of this regret hitting me now? I think I will blame it on the fact that I'm supposed to die in an hour and a half. Yes. Let's go with that, having something to blame helps ease the pain a little.