Gemini Chapter Three

"Gemi? Gemi? Wake up... They're taking us somewhere. I'm-" I shoot up and knock into Charity who's leaning over me. She stumbles and immediately grumbles something about her nose. "Charity! Oh my gosh! Charity! Where are you? Where are the lights? Somebody, turn them on!" I shout. My mind becomes panicked when nothing responds except a few groans and whimpers. "Hey! Are you people deaf? Turn on some lights!" I scream. Now are they trying to torture us by starving us of light? "Zay?" Charity whispers, her voice squeaky. She must've been hit by my head in the nose. Just what she needs...
"What?" I recognize the voice as the boy across the hall. His voice is gentle when he speaks to Charity, not sharp and annoyed. "Are the lights out?"Charity questions, because of course she can't see. "No, they'll turn them off once we're all up and out," he responds. "But Gemi is screaming about the lights being off." There's a long silence. Then suddenly, panic grips me. "Gemi, you're...blind. You're eyes are just like Charity's." I snap my head to where his spot is. I've looked over there so many times that I can easily "look" at him. "No. NO. NO! This can't be! NO! NO! NO! NO!" I screech.My throat screams for rest, but I keep ranting. "NO!" And then I end up on the ground again for what seems like the millionth time. I can feel the man who I think is the head of the Illegal program staring down at me. "So we have a Double Affect, huh? Well, this'll be fun," he sighs, apparently annoyed for some reason. I try to glare a him, enraged, but my eyes won't work. I sit there, helplessly. He finally walks away, his boots clipping the ground. My hearing already is starting to kick in, in place of my eyes. "Gemi?" Zay whispers above the crying and complaints. "What?" I say sharply. "Must've been the crack on your head," he whispers softly. "That happened to my cousin. He was hidden, but then he gained his sight back three days after." His voice sounded different. He was probably lying. I brushed it off. He might, he might not be lying, but he's just trying to make me feel better. Leaving the subject, I roll to my right, where Charity is crying softly. "Charity? Here." I rip off part of my shirt sleeve. I wave it around and finally touch skin. I move up and feel her hand over her nose. She quickly takes the cloth and shoves it over her nose. The warm liquid drops on me and I briskly wipe it off on my pants. Blood has always disgusted me. I once tripped on a loose board in the attic, scraping my forearm in the process. I lay there for what seemed like hours, unwilling to get up. The blood poured over my face, and soon I ran up and wiped it on the bed sheet. The taste of blood still was in my mouth. That day reminds me of the attic, and tears spring to my eyes, but I must be strong. I haven't been much better than Ailill and especially not like Kina, who supported and helped all the Illegals. The tears threaten to spill but I hold them back and they sting my eyes. Finally I let go and face the wall, waiting to feel the tickle of the tear as it rolls down my face. But it doesn't. Stupid eyes.
"Alright, everyone up!" I hear a guard call. I struggle up and reach for Charity, who's curled up against the wall. I grip for her arm and then find it. Grasping it, I gently pull her up and she whimpers. These people are evil, scheming, lying , devils to do this to us! Guards stomp down the lines on either side of the hall and I hear a clicking sound. I duck as one comes by, trying to avoid him. He picks me up and places me gently on the ground. What the? Gently? I quit struggling and let him clip Charity to me and them me to the boy to the left of me. He then proceeds to unchain me from the wall and lock the chain to a handcuff that he fastens to my wrist. Of course, they have to be careful with rebels like me. I lean against the wall and he whispers in my ear. "You better be good. We don't want the whip hitting a beautiful girl like you." Ok, he just called me beautiful. Something is wrong with him. Either he's secretly mental or this is a trap. I decide it's a trap, though he could be hiding his insanity. I push the idea away as he moves down the line. I can hear him talking to the boy in front of me. I go to touch my bump on the back of my head. The chains restrain me, but I twist down into an unnatural position. I must be a contortionist. I decide it's not worth my neck breaking, so I slowly twist under my arm and roll my neck around a few times, making sure that I still have circulation. The clangs and rattles of chains ring through my ears. A sharp crack interrupts them and Sergeant (that's what I decided to call head man), yells loud and clear, "All right, we're moving today. This ol' rusty tin can is leaking too much in the guards quarters. No complaining or you'll be left behind! You'll walk as long as we want you to. Trust me, if even one of you dies, I'll die too. So you can trust me with your life. Now move!" he yells. I stare straight ahead, dreading the journey into the Wild. Finally, the line starts to slowly move. Cries, whimpers, and moans ring out. I hear a loud creak and assume something like a garage door is opening. I follow the boy in front of me. Snow hits my face. It is probably the first bite of hundreds that the Wild will throw at me. The snow crunches under my feet and freezes my toes instantly. My journey begins.