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Raindrops are my only reminder that clouds have a heartbeat. That I have one, too.
that they shatter when they fall to the floor,
I am a raindrop.
Someone picked up the sun and pinned it to the sky again,
Stop touching me with your eyes and keep your hands to your sides and please and please and please—
He reminds me of someone I used to know.
Sometimes I think the loneliness inside of me is going to explode through my skin and sometimes I’m not sure if crying or screaming or laughing through the hysteria will solve anything at all.
Something punches me in the stomach. His eyes. Something about his eyes. It’s not him not him not him not him not him.
Hello. World. You will forget me.
If time stands still nothing can go wrong.
“Juliette,” I whisper. “My name is Juliette.” His lips soften into a smile. He repeats my name like the word amuses him. Entertains him. Delights him.
I wish I could stuff my mouth full of raindrops and fill my pockets full of snow.
Maybe I am crazy.” “You’re not,” he says through clenched teeth. “You know you’re not.” “Then maybe it’s you,” I say carefully, slowly. “Because one of us is.”
“Maybe I want to touch you.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to.” He makes a harsh sound. “I disgust you that much?”
I hope they kill me soon.
“Juliette Ferrars.” A voice detonates my name. There’s a heavy boot pressed into my back and I can’t lift my head to distinguish who’s speaking to me. “Weston, dim the lights and release her. I want to see her face.” The command is cool and strong like steel, dangerously calm, effortlessly powerful.
I’m immediately struck by his youth. He can’t be much older than me. It’s obvious he’s in charge of something, though I have no idea what. His skin is flawless, unblemished, his jawline sharp and strong. His eyes are the palest shade of emerald I’ve ever seen. He’s beautiful. His crooked smile is calculated evil.
I squint closer at the man in the chair only to realize his suit has been adorned with tiny colored patches. Military mementos. His last name is etched into the lapel: Warner.
“That wasn’t necessary, Roland. I suppose I’d be wondering the same thing if I were in her position.” A pause. “Juliette?” I manage to lift my head. “I have a proposition for you.”
He offers me a smile that says I should be grateful for his praise.
I am a monster.
“I’m not as cruel as you think,” Warner continues, a musical lilt in his voice. “If you’re so fond of his company I can make this”—he gestures between myself and Adam—“a permanent assignment.”
Warner curves his lips into a careless grin. “Oh yes. But be careful, pretty girl. If you do something . . . bad...
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“If you accept my offer,” Warner interrupts my thoughts, “you will live like I do. You will be one of us, and not one of them. Your life will change forever.”
Warner looks genuinely disappointed. His hands are clasped together in dismay.
If you stand by my side you will be rewarded.”
He presses his lips together. “But if you choose to disobey? Well . . . I think you look rather lovely with all yo...
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I’m breathing so hard my frame is shaking. “You want me to torture people for you?” His face breaks into a brilliant ...
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“Wrong,” he singsongs. He tosses Adam a pair of black gloves. “You’re going to need these,” he says with a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re a monster.” My voice is too even, my body filled with a sudden rage. “Why don’t you just kill me?”
“That, my dear, would be a waste.”
He tips my chin up with one finger. “Besides, it’d be a shame to lose...
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“Don’t struggle, love. You’ll only make things more difficult for yourself.” “I hope you rot in hell.”
“Don’t let her out of your sight. She’s your charge now.” “Yes, sir.”
I step into the slight breeze and clutch a fistful of wind as it weaves its way through my fingers. Bliss unlike anything I’ve ever known.
but the warm rays wash over my body like a jacket fitted to my form,
I have to beg my bones to stop shaking.
Traditional homes of our old world have been abandoned, windows shattered, roofs collapsing, red and green and blue paint scrubbed into muted shades to better match our bright future.
No more dangerous imaginations, no more prescription medications. A new generation comprised of only healthy individuals would sustain us. The sick must be locked away. The old must be discarded. The troubled must be given up to the asylums. Only the strong should survive.
Selfish needs, wants, and desires needed to be obliterated. Greed, overindulgence, and gluttony had to be expunged from human behavior.
But the world is eerily quiet.
People used to want hope. They wanted to think things could get better.
They never realized they were signing away their souls to a group planning on taking advantage of their ignorance.
Most civilians are too petrified to protest but there are others who are stronger. There are others who are waiting for the right moment. There are others who have already begun to fight back.
I hope it’s not too late to ...
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They said they would give us back our homes, our health, our sustainable future. But they stole everything.
They took everything. My life. My future. My sanity. My freedom.
I’m on my knees, my body cracking from the pain I’ve swallowed so many times, heaving with sobs I can no longer suppress, my dignity dissolving in my tears, the agony of this past week ripping my skin to shreds.
I don’t know if I’ve officially lost my mind.
I’m a bag of feathers in his arms
