Lazy Sunday

I’ve seen a lot of things. Women chained to the streets, men hearing little girls like sheep, five year olds shooting full fledged guns. But i was never part of that.

My older sister locked me in this prison when i was seven years old, when it all started. The women had rebelled, the men had fought. Some guys took to women’s rights, most fought against them.

My sister had told me never to leave my prison. Never to let anyone in, and if they came in, never let them out.

My prison wasn’t a terrible place to be, i’d guess. A bed in the corner, a pantry and closet across from the ladder leading from the hatch. There were shelves of books and one shelf opened to a room full of every weapon you could think of.

My days had been spent reading, both fiction and nonfiction, and learning to use the weapons in the corner. My sister had been teaching me, she would knock morse code through the hatch telling me it was her and then unlocking each and every lock.

She had always brought me one more book to read, whether it was on math or one of her own personal journals of her life outside.

She would then cut my hair very short. She said it was a precaution. A just in case. Let’s just say it worked, the first time someone found me I was 10. I had been trained to use both knives and guns so I made it a quick death.

And now i’m faced with another unknown visitor. Long, uncombed beard, silver teeth scattered throughout his grin, brown eyes so dark they were black, tattoos on every inch of skin visible to me.

“Do you think you could come with me, girl?” There was a small accent that i didn’t know in his voice.

“i think I can’t, though i’ll give you five second to turn around and get back to where you came from.”

This was the kind of man that didn’t back down.

His grin widened as he pulled a dagger from his belt. I sighed, “All i had wanted was a lazy sunday, but now i’ll have to kill you.”

He didn’t seem to believe me.

He slashed the blade towards my face, I easily side stepped as his entire weight fell to the floor.

I pulled my gun and aimed for his head. He seemed nervous now but arrogance was going to get him killed. I pulled the trigger and he went limp.

I used morse code through a clicker to my sister, telling her to hurry up and get back, we had a body to get rid of.

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