Final Truth

Chapter 1: Out of the Ashes

Julia's point of view:

A chilling wind whistles through the barren trees, scattering ashes everywhere and filling the air with a smokey scent.

There is nothing left of these woods, this forest that was once full of life. Whatever trees left standing are bare, their bark steaming and blackened to an absolute crisp.

I look at the ashes surrounding us, wishing I could pretend it was snow instead of what's left of a fire that consumed everything in its path.

But when I look at the ground as I walk, I see my shoe upturn a small pile of ashes. Underneath it lies a few blades of fresh grass, bright green against the smokey white.

It's the first sign that the forest has already started to rebuild, to heal itself.

To move on.

It makes me jealous, seeing this new sign of life. The woods have the ability to start over, while I know that I never can.

Not after everything that happened.

My home is destroyed while one of my enemies is in charge of what's left of it. My friends are most likely dead. The boy I love is currently holding a knife to my back as he pushes me forward, threatening to stab me if I try to run.

But that's not his fault; everything that happened to him is on me.

Henley leads our little group through the charred woods, taking us to this new house of horrors that I've been promised. But considering the fact that we've been traveling for about a week, I'm beginning to wonder if she knows where she's going.

"We'll get there when we get there," Peter growls at me, reading my thoughts like a book.

I always hated when he did that.

In turn I hang my head in silence, looking at the powdery dusting of ash that has settled on my shoes and wonder just how much destruction people are capable of.

"We're here," I hear Henley say tiredly, ready to collapse from exhaustion like the rest of us.

I look up at the building and immediately coward in fear, wanting to back away from it but not being able to because of the knife at my back.

It's a massive structure, made of blackened steel that stands out boldly against the powdery ground. Watchtowers pop up here and there, snipers perched up in them like vultures awaiting their next meal. A wrought-iron gate rises in front of the building, the bars promising no escape once you're inside. Barbed wire adorns the fence surrounding the premises, a deadly decoration of sorts.

Out of the ashes the building towers over the ground, a house containing an unknown amount of horrors for myself.

"Welcome home," Henley says tauntingly to me as we begin to walk through the gates, entering the building.

I glance over my shoulder quickly, firmly believing that this might be the last time I ever see daylight.

************

After walking through long corridors and scaling staircases that have no end, I am finally led to a cell where I will be held for the duration of my stay.

Peter pushes me inside and I fall on my knees, my skin making painful contact with the tiled floor.

"A doctor will be here to clean up your wounds soon. I would get some sleep if I were you, Julia. You have a long day ahead of yourself tomorrow," Henley says with a sick smile before leaving, Peter following behind her as they exit.

Springing to my feet, I reach through the bars and catch Peter's sleeve with my hand, just before he can get out of my reach.

"Let go of me, you pest!" He yells, furiously trying to shake off my grip.

"Remember me," I plead with him, staring hopelessly into his once brown eyes.

But he sees nothing when he looks at me now, almost like he's staring at the wall instead of me.

"Let go," he repeats furiously, and this time I gently release him.

He gives me an angry glance before heading down the hall, following Henley around like a little puppy.

In hopeless defeat I sink against the wall, rubbing my sore wrists from being handcuffed for so long.

My cell is dark, the only light being a single lightbulb on a piece of wire that sways back and forth lightly from the ceiling. I have a bed chained to the side of the wall, but I would honestly rather sleep on the floor; having bed springs exposed without a mattress could not be good for anyone's back. Black tile covers the floor, an endless sea of ebony beneath my feet.

The only wall is at the back of my cell where the bed is, the rest being open bars that separate my cell from one on my left and one on my right.

I try to remain quiet, not wanting to disturb the people in the cells next to mine. Judging by their relaxed figures on their beds, I can assume they're asleep.

I begin to pry off my boots carefully, already beginning to feel deep blisters on my feet from walking so much.

But when I get my right boot off, I feel something rattle around inside of it.

Puzzled, I turn the shoe upside down, something small and metallic falling into my shaking hand.

I have to bite back a gasp of shock, not realizing that I still had this on me from the fight:

The power-removing gun.