Chapter 4|| The Tale of A Boy

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"It all started when my father passed away when I was five, thirteen years ago." Bryan seemed to get farther and farther away as he began his story.
"We were all grieving, when my father died, but my mother had it hardest. She stopped doing anything for weeks. My mother and father were very close, as every good husband and wive should be, but my parents had something deeper. They had know each other their wholes lives. Their friendship had started back in Preschool. They were always there for each other, always making sacrifices for the benefit of others.
"His sudden death had come from a lung failure. He had got surgery on it earlier that year, but apparently the stitches or whatever the doctors used broke open and all of the air in his lungs leaked out. The investigation is still ongoing as to what exactly caused this, but so far no answers have decided to reveal themselves.
"Anyway, my mother and I had the funeral once she was back on her feet, and it was pretty much a tear-fest. Only my mom, grandma and grandpa, and the priest had come. We didn't have enough money then for a coffin or grave or anything, so his body was placed on the floor in front of the altar."
Bryan chocked back a sob, then continued, "We brought him back to our house, and dug him his own grave, which took days before the funeral since I was five and had to do it all by myself." He cleared his throat. "After the burial I focused less on school and more on working. I know my age is quiet an unbelievable time to start work, but to support my mother I had to. Plus, I had tested for being gifted in all of my classes, even up to fourth grade level.
"Years passed, and I was around twelve. I had taken a job to clean up after a party hosted by some Twos, and I was in the middle of doing my job when I saw that I was surrounded by masked people.
"My first instinct was to run, but the gang seemed to have weapons on them. I asked them what they wanted, and I'll never forget what the one with the blue bandana said. He had a low raspy voice as he sneered at me, "Boy, don't you recognize our symbol? Look closely.' I followed what the man said and looked for a sign. I found it on the mask, hidden in the the top right corner. A red skull, with bones overlapping each other.
"'A skull?' I had asked them.
"The man laughed then he responded, 'Of course you wouldn't know, how old are you? Eight?' Before I had the chance to respond, the man started talking again. 'We are from the Southern rebels as you have guessed, and we have a specific task for you. Go and steal a guards uniform and maybe we will let you live. Agree, or die.'
I was so frightened that I couldn't speak, though I nodded my head. Then the mans friend who was next to him thrust his mask at me. I expected to see a face, but there was another mask under that. I remember thinking how odd it was, but before I could ask the gang all disappeared. The image of the extra mask, the faceless man, still haunts my dreams.
"I finished my job and collected my pay, then went home. It wasn't till the end of the week where I decided to make my move. Little did I know the Southern rebels had all eyes on me, and they were pleased that I followed their directions.
"I wore their mask and snuck out at night. I made sure my mother was okay before leaving. Long story short, on the way to the palace, I got caught up with another gang, but this time, they were afraid of me.
"I told them I wasn't going to hurt them, then I took off my mask. They all gasped, then ran away. I didn't follow them. At the gates to the palace, I saw two guards in the front, two in the back, and countless ones along all the sides. I was about to make my move when I got pulled backward and pinned to a wall.
"My assailant said to me, 'Not so fast Southern, I see you mask.' By then I was out of breath from the impact of the wall, so I breathed out,'I'm not a rebel, they threatened me, I have to get- a guards uniform- to save- my family.' The man looked skeptical and surprisingly let me go. I took off my mask, and he saw I was just a kid.
'What's your name?' I asked the man.
'Shalom, I'm with the Northern rebels. And yours?'
I responded, 'Bryan.'
It was quiet for a moment before Shalom broke the silence.
'Take these,' he said, 'So you can be identified with the Northerns to.' He handed me a star from his pocket. I thought it strange that one would carry around stickers, but this world was quiet a crazy one.
"After that the man left, and I went back home.  I put the star onto my mask, right above the red skull, then I explained to my mother why we had to move, or be on the run, and she agreed. We avoided the rebels, until one day they got ahold of her and, well, reunited her with dad.
"I remember coming home to my mother half-alive. She was sprawled out on the floor with a knife, handle deep in her chest. My eyes got as big as light bulbs and I could feel the tears threatening to come. At first I thought it was just a mirage, so I pinched myself on the arm. I neither woke up nor the sight on the floor went away. I walked over to my mother, thinking about pulling the knife out, but then she would get worse. I couldn't call the hospital. We didn't have a phone. It might have be to late already, though. She was barely breathing. Instead, I started talking my mom.
'Mom? Can you hear me? It's going to be all right.'
She didn't respond, but she was still breathing, if only slightly.
'Mom remember the time that I came home from preschool, as happy as a buzzing bee? We went out for ice cream, and I was so delighted because I had never had it before. Though I spilled it all over the ground before I even got to the cone. You gave me yours, and I never loved you more. It's just like that now. Life will continuously send barrages of bad things after us, but that just means we can enjoy the good things even more.'
'We both now what will happen, but we all love each other. Me, you, dad. That bond is stronger than even death. I love you mom.'
"Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open and she responded in a shaky voice, 'Thank yo-ou Bryan, for everything. I-I love you too." My mother coughed up blood, then went deathly still. I watched the life go out of her still open eyes. I watched as my mother died. I watched as someone suffered and I couldn't do a thing about it.
"I dug my mother a grave next to dads, then went to seek out Shalom. I eventually found him at his workshop while he was taking out the trash. It was in a neighbor hood for Fives, which I was grateful for. After my dad had died, and now my mother, we had went from Sixes, to Sevens, and now I'm an Eight. He agreed to hide me, and I told him I would get a job to help with my costs, if not all of them.
"I lived the rest of my life in hiding, and decided to be an in between. A balance between Southern and Northern, and I wore my 'costume' everywhere." Bryan and I smiled at that, then he went on. " Just earlier today I saw a group of who I thought to be Northern, but were Southern. I followed them into the palace and it was after I saw them kill a guard that I knew their identity. I ran, and they must have seen my star sticker, for the were now hunting me. Then I ran into you, and well, that's pretty much it."
I took in a breath, digesting everything Bryan said. We both had tears in our eyes, but I knew it was hard for Bryan to recite his story with all the loss weaved in it. "Wow, I had no idea-" I got cut off by the shriek of someone below.
It was Maxon, and he was crying, "America absolutely did not die! Keep looking!"
The pang in my heart was unmistakeable, and Maxons misery wafted throughout the air.
He thought I was dead.
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