The Survivor

Chapter 2

  I open my eyes, my hands are tied behind the back of a pole. My hair is a mess and I can feel sweat drip down my face. I lift my head up and squint my eyes, seeing the bright light in my face. "#(#)&$^%*$#(^" I hear a faint voices talking. Most likely in Arabic or something along those lines.

  I look up to see a man. He has tan skin, brown eyes, brown hair. He's about six foot. He's wearing a green hat and a camo outfit. He walks over to me and lifts up my chin. I look him in the eyes and spit in his face. He pulls back and wipes it away. His face shows anger, then he lifts up his hand and slaps me across the face.

  "Is that all you got?" I spit at him. "Oh give it time. You and your troops are nothing compared to my men," He says in a thick Iran accent. "You won't break me," I say. "We'll see about that." He says, then he pulls out a gun, and the shot goes off.

  I jolt up with a pant. I feel my hair stick to my face and I can't seem to catch my breath. It comes out short and fast, almost like I've been running for hours. "It was just a dream. It was just a dream." I tell myself. I look over to the clock, reading 01:34. I get up, grab my shoes, and a black hair tie.

  I put on my running shoes and pull my brown hair into a low bun. I quietly make my way down the stairs and out the door. I start out by running five miles. I run to a nearby park and do laps. After about my forth mile I stop and go over to the monkey bars and start doing thirty pull ups, then fifty hanging crunches, and then one-hundred jumping jacks. I end up doing five sets of it, and then I make my way back home. As I check my watch, I ended up running about six miles.

  As I enter the house an alarm starts to go off. I get startled by this and pull out my gun. Everyone rushes down stairs, still in their pj's. "Mace, what's going on?" Felix asks, rubbing his eyes. He walks down and goes over to where the heat monitor is and puts in a code, making the alarms stop. "Since when did we get an alarm system?" I ask. "We got one about seven years ago. But of course you wouldn't know since you've been gone," Addison says.

I look up to her and let out a little growl. "It's fine Add, what are you doing up at 5 in the morning?" Felix asks. "I was just out for a run," I tell them. "Well you should be resting. No one should be up right now," Sharon contributes. "Sorry," I apologize, as everyone retreats upstairs. I end up following and go into my room and take a shower. I make sure to put it on the coldest setting. I wash my hair and body and let the freezing water rush over my body. I hop out, get dressed, and put my wet hair in a dutch braid. As I look in the mirror, I'm wearing a black sports bra and my green army pants. I look to my left shoulder where there's two round scars from a gunshot wound.

  My eyes then go to three long scars. It starts at the top of my right rib cage that go down to the lower left side of my hip. I trace marks, feeling the bumpy, uneven skin. I end up finishing getting dresses. Black shirt with cammo cargo pants, and my combat boots. As always, I put my knife around my belt and my gun in the back of my pants, covering it up with my shirt.

  I make my way downstairs where I see John. What the hell is he doing here? I walk over to where he has a freshly brewed pot of coffee. I go in the cabinet, but to my surprise there aren't any mugs, just plates. "The mugs are over here, they rearranged," John says, handing me a brown mug. A complete stranger knows this place better then me. I grab it from him and pour myself a cup of coffee. "Here's some sugar," He says handing me the little china bowl of sugar. "I drink it black," I tell him in an agitated tone.

  "Wow, I can't stand black coffee," He laughs. "It's so bitter," He adds with a chuckle. "Well they don't give you sugar or milk in the marines," I say unamused. "So your parents tell me that you've been fighting for a while," He says. "First off their not my parents, second that is not on a need to know base," I tell him. "Really? I thought you where their daughter?" He asks. "I'm adopted," I say. "Oh what happened to your parents?" He asks. 

  "You don't need to know that either," I tell him. I walk out to the back porch and sit on the stone step. I look down to my coffee and take a sip. Once I finish it I go back inside and everyone is in the kitchen. I look at the clock reading 6:46 a.m. I go over the the sink and rinse out my mug and place it in the sink.

  Everyone's in their own conversation, going over their day. "Hey Felix, is my bike still around?" I ask. "Oh umm, well. You see," He starts. "We didn't think that you where ever coming home so John now has it," Addison says. "If you need it, that's totally fine," He says. "No," Is all I say, trying to not let my anger get the best of me. "I'm not using my car today Mace," Tom says. He throughs me his keys and I catch them without looking.

  "I'll be back," I inform them. "Where are you going? You just got back," Monica asks. With her being the youngest, she was always oblivious. I never minded her to be honest. "I was thinking you, me, mom, and Jess, could go out and get you some real clothes. And then we could go to lunch!" She adds. "What's wrong with my clothes?" I ask, actually curious. "Well your not in the army any more so you don't have to dress like you alway want to get in a fight," She chuckles. I let out a little chuckle and my half grin smile. "We'll go when I get back," I tell her. "Ok!" She exclaims. Time to go see my real father.