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*Simulation 31*
“Hey sweetie” you hear Root’s voice through your earpiece, cars honking in the background, and you blame yourself for not shutting down the phone earlier. It’s your fucking day off after all.
“What do you want Root?” you make her name sound like a curse, spitting it out so angrily and yet so indifferently, and for a moment you only hear a light breathing coming from the other line of the phone call.
“Can’t a couple of gals just chat for a while?” she eventually speaks and her voice is somehow different; lower than usual and calmer, as if the storm has just passed and she sits only to catch her breath after overcoming imminent death.
“No.” You reply abruptly and you hang up before Root gets the chance to speak. You’re tired of her games, trying to mess with your head and most of the times succeeding –not that you will ever tell her that.
The earpiece is no longer connected to your phone and this time you hear it ring, giving you the ability to ignore it. And that’s what you do. Over and over again until it stops and only then you take a sip of beer, highly satisfied with yourself that you managed to turn her down so easily. It wasn’t that hard after all.
She’s not going to give up without a fight though and the phone rings again, this time its sound feels more annoying than ever as it finds you half asleep and destroys any hope you had of getting some sleep.
You feel a burst of anger growing inside of you and when you answer the damn phone you let it pour out of you in one breath, “Root I swear to god–”, you don’t get to finish though, a crash from the street outside your apartment interrupts you in mid-sentence and the next millisecond the same sound hammers your ear through the speaker.
You can’t really tell if it was your command or your body acted instinctively, but you find yourself running down the stairs and out to the street anyway.
There you find a black SUV smashed against a wall, bullet holes filling its entire left side, and inside of it Root. She’s pale and unresponsive and you extend your arms to help her get out, until you see it; blood all over her shirt and you lift it up to check the damage.
Two gunshot wounds that drain blood out of her like crosscut arteries and you press your hands against them –vainly, you know it and judging by the look on her face she knows it too.
“I–” she tries but the blood in her mouth does little to help with her speech, if anything it chokes her making the inalienable ability to speak impossible.
“You’re okay, you’re okay” you say but she’s not. She’s lost a lot of blood, but that’s not what betrays her condition. It’s the lifeless eyes that are now looking at you apathetically, with no affection, no love, no perkiness in them, and you wonder what she would say if she got the chance. Soon, though, you realize that it doesn’t matter, it was probably nothing. After all, she only wanted to chat for a while.
--Simulation 31 completed--
“How did she die this time?”
You hear a voice and you open your eyes to find the blonde bitch smirking at you and you want nothing more than to spring forward and wipe that fucking smile off her face. You can’t though, the restraints are keeping you still and the wires that penetrate your head control not only your body but your mind as well. Yet, you struggle like a caged animal that desperately tries to free itself until the electric current passes through your body and you know it’s time…
In the end, you find out that you don’t mind the physical torture at all.
*Simulation 41*
You run to the safe house and it’s the first time that you feel anxious. You don’t know why though. You don’t even know why you’re running. Nevertheless you don’t stop until you reach your destination.
You find Harold and John whispering to each other but you can’t hear anything, you can’t even see their faces; they are blurry, as if they are not supposed to be here. They are irrelevant.
And you don’t care about them, because you find yourself running to the next room and when the door opens you find her lying in bed, waiting for you. A faint smile appears on her face and you know she’s faking it.
“I knew you’d come back for me”
She whispers and you sit in the chair beside the bed.
“You look like crap” you comment but you don’t make any other move, only when she laughs with difficulty you feel something in your stomach tighten and you avert your eyes.
“Can you come closer?”
She says and you know she has given up. You haven’t though and you hate her for that.
“No” you reply coldly, because you’re angry and you don’t care about the hurt that you now see on her face. She’s leaving you behind and you have every right to be angry at her. So you are.
“Can you tell me a story?”
You can feel the time –her time- running out and for a moment you think that maybe you should do her the favor –her last favor, but then you give it another thought and you remember that you’re angry and you can’t show any weakness.
“No” you look her in the eyes as you refuse and she only nods and closes them, willfully refusing to look at you anymore.
Not that you care.
You stay there for the next moments, listening to her breathing fading and only when it stops you spring from your chair, the realization hitting you hard as you take her face in your hands and you shake it intensely.
“Root! Root! Wake up, I’ll tell you a story.” You hear yourself shouting but she can’t hear you and you want to smash that head into the wall, because she did it again; she made you care and then left, as if you are nothing to her, as if she doesn’t like you at all, as if…
And then you remember she’s dead, so it doesn’t matter anymore.
For what is worth, you’ve stopped being angry. There’s something else there that you can’t quite identify, something you haven’t felt before and you find out that you don’t like it at all.
--Simulation 41 Completed--
“How rude of her, dying like that…”
You don’t have to open your eyes to see who’s speaking; you know.
*Simulation 59*
“This is so cozy” she whispers and you couldn’t agree more. You are both lying on the couch, a position that shouldn’t be confortable and yet it is as you wrap your arms tighter around her waist, her curls tickling your nose and you don’t think you’ve been more relaxed in your life.
After a couple of minutes she speaks again and you feel an irresistible urge to run away.
“Can I tell you something?”
“No” your reply is straight and so spontaneous. You don’t want to hear what she has to say. You already know after all.
“But I have to say it” she insists and you roll your eyes at her back, suddenly you are not at peace anymore; you are angry.
“I said no” you shout and you press her forcefully to your chest.
You don’t get a response then and you feel satisfied with yourself, you’ve finally managed to shut her up. It wasn’t that hard after all.
You lie there for a while until you hear your stomach complaining. You should eat; it doesn’t feel like an urgent need but something inside you begs you to move. And you move.
“I’m hungry” you state simply and you sit up, nudging Root in the process.
She doesn’t respond though and you feel your anger burning your insides.
“Root!” you make a move to prod her again and then you notice the knife in your hand, covered with blood, and you can’t remember grabbing it.
Your gaze falls down on the woman beside you. She’s inexpressive and pale and tearful.
You drop the knife and you nudge her again, gently this time.
“Hey, you can tell me now” you say and you wait a response that will never come. She’s looking at you but her eyes have already lost focus and now they’ve froze looking at your direction and you can’t take it anymore. Eventually, you close them with your bloody hand and then you stand up to grab something to eat.
Suddenly, you don’t feel hungry at all.
You go back to the couch and she’s still there, sleeping in peace. You return to your previous position on the couch and you wrap your arms around the body before you.
It’s cold and you tighten your hold to warm it up –vainly.
“You can tell me now if you want” you whisper in her ear and you feel a liquid falling from your eye and you don’t know what to do with it.
--Simulation 59 Completed--
“Did you just kill your girlfriend?”
You don’t open your eyes; there’s a tear in there that you’ll never let fall.
*Simulation 265*
“You are not real” she’s not, you’re sure now. You won’t let it happen again. They can’t play with your mind anymore, you are controlling it now.
“Shaw, what are you talking about?” she sounds sincere but you know better. After all these times, you know now.
She comes closer.
“Stay away from me” you scream but she doesn’t listen. She never listens.
“What’s wrong?” she says and raises her hand to caress your cheek and you let her, because it feels real.
No, no it’s not real. You take a step back and feel your body touching the wall behind you. There is nowhere you can go and she’s so close now.
“You are not real” you repeat your words like an accusation.
“But I am” she replies and leans in to kiss you.
It feels strange. It’s different from all the other kisses you’ve shared, but she’s Root and she’s there, kissing you, and you don’t care if she’s real anymore.
You kiss her back. Her lips on yours, they are soft and demanding. And they taste like apples and Root and iron.
Iron?!
You push her away and she drops on the ground. She huddles up on the pavement and starts coughing up blood.
She’s not real. Not real. Not real. And yet you find yourself kneeling, your hands slipping inside her shirt to find the wounds that were never there.
She’s shaking and coughing and crying your name and you keep searching her body. There’s so much blood and still you can’t find a wound.
You keep trying until she stops moving and your eyes meet with hers. They are empty.
You don’t give up though, immediately you bring your hands to her chest and you push down in the center of it.
“You lied to me” you scream as you keep pumping her chest hard. She doesn’t respond and you cover her mouth with yours. You breathe in it twice and then you push your hands fast against her chest.
“You said you’re real” you scream and you pound the lifeless body until you can’t feel your hands any more. And you don’t feel anything anymore.
--Simulation 265 Completed--
“You can’t let her go, can you?”
You open your eyes and you see Lambert. His voice is soft and sympathetic and you find it disgusting.
You haven’t seen Martine for the last 35 simulations –that’s how you measure time now- and you can’t help but imagine Root killing her. It’d be only fair, considering how many times she had killed Root.
Not that you care. You have your own routine to follow now. The sun rises when the physical torture begins and it falls when the simulations start, then you sleep. It’s easy to remember and they always stick to the program. You don’t need a clock anymore, or a window to see if it’s day or night.
The type of the pain you feel tells you everything you need to know.
And soon you find out that you’re always looking forward to sunrise.
Today
“Walk with me” she says with that smirk on her face that has haunted you for quite some time now.
“Why should I do that?” you protest but you follow her in the middle of the road, her pace fast and confident –as always.
“Because our next number is probably in that building” she points at the building across the street and you turn your head to inspect it. It’s a simple movement and yet so important. Because it only takes a moment and a brief glance to spot the gleam of light reflected by a sniper’s sight behind a window.
And it takes something less than a moment to react, but you’re fast and the next thing you feel is Root beneath you as you cover her with your body.
You look at her face and she’s terrified. Soon though you realize it’s you that terrifies her. It’s your expression, the horror in your eyes, your shaking hands that are desperately trying to find the wound.
Because you see blood and you know it’s fatal. It’s always fatal.
But she doesn’t let you, she drags you down on the ground with her and screams that you take cover. Not that you can hear her. You only hear your own voice shouting, repeating the same series of words.
“Not again, not again, not again” you thought it was over. You thought she was real. You thought…
There’s a moment of silence until John’s voice breaks it. “It’s okay, I got him”
You breathe again and you let your hands roam along Root’s abdomen. There isn’t blood here and yet you keep trying to find the cause of the imminent death, until she grabs your wrists.
“What are you doing?” she asks inquisitively as she stands up.
You are doing what you’ve so unsuccessfully been doing for the past four months. You try to save her and surprisingly you succeeded. She’s alive, looking down at you and she doesn’t seem pale, or wounded, or even a little dizzy. She’s unscathed.
You smile.
*
You enter the apartment and you try hard to hide your shaky hands, but then she takes off her jacket and you notice the blood on her shirt and you spring forward. It’s only a scratch on her shoulder but she has died from less.
You run to the bathroom to find the first aid kid and when you return you find her looking at you with eyes puzzled and sympathetic.
And you can tell only by that look on her face that she knows. And when she speaks she confirms your fear.
“How many times have you seen me die?”
You still in the middle of the room and you avert your eyes. You can’t let her see in them the agony that you feel; the pain. You can’t give them the satisfaction to break you so soon. Because it’s not the time for you to break; she hasn’t died yet. It’s the calm before the storm. The part where you believe you can have her. Only then she dies. And only then you allow yourself to break.
“Sameen-”
“Three hundred fifty-seven.” You reply simply, as if this number means nothing to you, as if you don’t remember every detail of every simulation they’ve run.
She doesn’t say anything but she doesn’t die either and you feel blessed.
You approach and kneel in front of her. She’s crying.
“I’m sorry I let you die” you whisper as you rest your forehead against hers and she brings her hands on both sides of your face. They are warm and you look her in the eyes, so full of life.
For a moment, a crazy idea emerges and you try to repress it, that maybe –just maybe- this is real.
Soon though you snap back to reality; the reality that they’ve made for you. She’s not real. None of this is real. She’ll die at any moment now and then it’ll start all over again. It’s simulation number 358.
“Sam, this time you did save me.”
She strokes your hair and looks you in the eye while she speaks. She seems sincere, but isn’t she always?
You don’t speak again, you let her hand cup the back of your neck and draw you nearer for a kiss.
Her lips taste like apples and Root and salt. And you wonder where the blood is.
*
You open your eyes and she’s still there. Lying in bed next to you and you check to see if she’s breathing.
Surprisingly she is and you wrap your arm around her waist pulling her closer. You can feel her smile as she nestles her face against your neck.
A couple of hours later the sun rises and she’s still alive, her body pressed against yours and her heartbeat steady and constant.
You don’t know if this is real, but you realize you don’t really care anymore.
She’s alive for now and nothing else matters.