Mod The Sims - View Single Post - Story Time Contest: Hero Edition

~~~~

“This way, Sir. He’s alive but in critical condition.”

“I’ll see him in private, Doctor.” He takes the hint. Entering the room I’m taken aback. I’d seen his image on the CCTV footage but in person: “...You’re so much like your mother”.

His eyes heave open like it takes every ounce of energy he’s got. “It’s you. Come to finish the job?” he croaks, a wry smile playing across his lips ever so briefly before being replaced by a grimace of pain.

“Can a man not visit his only son?” I ask drily.

He wheezes, “Where was your sentimental side when you were kicking us to the curb?”

“Rurik...” I’m not sure what to say. I didn’t come here to tell my side of the story but maybe I owe him that much. “I never wanted this, you know? To have to abandon my own wife and son. She didn’t give me a choice. Your mother knew the law; she knew what the plan was. How could I run for office when I was married to the enemy; an outlaw in disguise?! How could I father a Red child?

“Mum isn’t the one in the wrong here” His breathing is noticeably laboured.

“No, she’s not... you are”. Oh, it feels good to say it aloud. “I loved her; she was my life, she was everything! She lied to me, somehow tricked me into believing she was normal. Still, I would’ve forgiven her back then, helped her hide it somehow because I think she wanted to be one of us so badly she believed her own lie. But you...how could I hide you?

“You really don’t get it do you?” He chokes.

“No, you don’t get it! You ruined everything! You put me in a position I should never have been in. I wasn’t equipped to deal with it. My father was livid of course. I was to take over his reign as governor but a scandal like that would end us both; bring shame to the family. He told me to ‘take care’ of you and forbade us to have any more children in case Jada was the exception, not you. Olivia wouldn’t let you go... she hated me for even entertaining the idea, said there was no coming back from that. We were over... she chose you, a Red over me. She wanted Jada too but she tore my heart out when she left... losing Jada broke hers. What could she do, fight for custody?” I laugh but the bitterness lingers, “Even my own father believed you’d both died in that car crash... or he knew better than to question it. I spared your life even as you tore mine apart! The only good thing to come of your birth was Jada and now you try to take her from me too!?

He smiles fleetingly as he croaks, “You’re too late, she won’t come back to you either!”

Picking up the pillow, I do what I should have done 20 years ago. “We’ll see about that!” I say when his weakened body finally goes limp.

~~~~

Numb, everything’s numb...blurred, grey. Weeks have passed or maybe months. I don’t know. Or Care. My days are a monotonous routine punctuated by rounds of drugs and electric-shock treatment. It hurts...a lot. But I relish the pain knowing that as long as I feel it, as long as I feel something, maybe one day I’ll feel... something more. I let it consume me: I scream and cry; crying a lifetime worth of tears, floodgates where a dam once stood. I cry for him...for all of them. Then it’s over I’m slumped back in the wheelchair, eyes glazed, drooling on my hospital gown as I’m wheeled over to Dr Ibrahim’s office.

Ibrahim’s voice is soft, soothing. Sometimes instead of answering his questions I’m unable to do anything but sink deep into his couch and sob quietly. In my stronger moments I answer his questions and riddles. He always wants me to talk. Over the weeks I start to feel like he needs me to say certain things; as though there were some unseen checklist. When I talk about Rurik and Olivia or the innocent victims of my father’s insane war he fidgets uncomfortably, glancing nervously at the CCTV camera high on the wall. “I want to go back to my old life, to serve my city and Governor”. I lie to test the waters. He smiles: a small, satisfied smile and when he relaxes my numbness momentarily lifts. It’s all too brief but the lie was worth it for that tiny glimpse of feeling without the pain of treatment. I decide to continue telling him what he needs to hear, to help him tick his boxes. I’m selling my soul but what does that matter when I’m already living in Hell? Everything I thought I knew turned out to be a lie and the only real thing I could count on was killed that night, right in front of me.

The day starts as any other of late. Everything’s the same, everything but me. I’m sharper, in focus: the numbness is dissipating, the fog lifting. Maybe it’s because they didn’t schedule the electric shock yesterday. A reward for telling them what they want to hear? The pain and grief of loss remain, intensified if anything. I want to feel nothing again, nothing is better than this! I’m taken to Ibrahim’s office as scheduled where, unusually, his receptionist asks us to wait outside.

“But, Sir”, I hear Dr Ibrahim plead, “she’s not ready for this! She’s still in a fragile state; re-integration can be transitory in the short-term, who knows what kind of damage this could do?!”

“Listen Doctor”, my father commands, “The city’s still reeling from the war and I have the eyes of the city on me. The people are scared and they’re starting to point fingers. They’re saying if I can’t keep my own daughter safe, how can I protect the whole city? That douche-bag on ‘The Daily Show’ is going about saying she’s not made a public appearance yet because the Reds turned her! Do you realise how weak and untrustworthy that makes me look? My life’s work is in jeopardy here. You have no idea what I’ve sacrificed to get where I am!”

“I understand, Sir but this is still very sudden, couldn’t we postpone it until-“

“Until when? The trial’s over; the verdict’s being aired in an hour! It’s happening tonight!”

“Tonight?” Ibrahim repeats sounding panicked.

“She has to present a united front with me, show the city that the Reds don’t have us beat and we’re stronger than ever! You just need to make sure you have her on enough drugs to keep her docile! The last thing I need is her developing a mind of her own on camera! The people need to see she’s back at my side and that we’re making the Reds pay for what they’ve done to us...to me! Got it?!”

Father makes to leave but stops when he sees me. He’s not visited me since I was first brought back. I was probably too hysterical to talk to him then but now I don’t know how to react, I’m just stunned to see him. I stand motionless, only my eyes move from him to Ibrahim and back, taking in what I’ve just heard. Dad paints on a smile, I could always tell when he was faking for the crowds, “The good doctor tells me you’re doing much better. I’m so glad to hear that Princess, I’ve been worried sick! I have great news: because you’re doing so well I’m taking you on an outing tonight and you get to wear your uniform and serve the city just like you asked for.” ...so he’s been keeping track of my therapy sessions? Maybe that’s why Ibrahim’s always so wary of the CCTV.

Ibrahim’s eyes seem to be pleading with me; I feel him urging me to go along with it. Or at the very least not go “feral”. Father scares him; father scares most people, I could never see why until now. He deals with threats by eliminating them. Is that why he wants me doped up? I’ve questioned his authority, threatened his rule. I look back to my father without speaking, I’m seething; want him to feel the pain he’s caused. Ibrahim seems to recognise the tiny impulse and his face fills with panic. For his sake I struggle more powerfully against my rage to undo that moment of weakness.

Recognising my hesitation, father’s smile is replaced with his ‘parental discipline’ face and I’m a child again being told off, “Jada, you just have to look healthy and not do anything to embarrass us. You’ve done a million public appearances with me before, you can handle this!” He turns to Dr Ibrahim, “She’ll be fine, I’ll send her uniform down”.

As soon as he’s out of the corridor Ibrahim drags me out the wheelchair and straight through his office, into the adjoining bathroom, motioning for me to stay still while he checks nobody’s following. What the hell is he doing, has everyone gone mad?! “Well handled, at the very least he can’t be sure I took you off your meds” he says in hurried whispers.

“What? But I’ve taken them every morn-“

“Keep your voice down!” He hisses, his head darting out the door again to see if anyone’s coming. “Those cameras pick up everything! Bathrooms are about the only safe place to talk.” He turns back to face me as he closes the door again. “He agreed to lay off the Electric –Shock Treatment when you started lying, he

believed

you! That’s when I started giving you placebos; the treatment would’ve been unbearable without drugs.”

“You knew I was lying?”

He looks at me impatiently, “Jada, I’m paid to understand people. That’s why I started coaxing you into thinking it was what I wanted to hear, I knew you wouldn't say that shit of your own volition!” Holy crap, am I that transparent?! He continues, “He wants you drugged: malleable until he can be sure you’re back under his control but ...Jada, there’s stuff happening that you need to have a clear head for. I’d hoped to have you completely sober before you had to face it but it’s gotta happen tonight”, he looks worried, “You’ve had almost two days off the meds, we’ll just have to hope that’s enough”.

“Wait, what’s happening tonight? Dad said something about a trial?”

“A few surviving Reds were rounded up that night you were brought in. They were put on public trial as war criminals. It’s a farce!” He shakes his head angrily then checks the door to make sure his raised voice didn’t alert anyone. “Most, if not all, of the testimonies were conjured up by the government. They’re show trials, Jada. Their sentence was decided before the trials even began; it’s just another way for your Dad to reinforce his authority. Their execution is being aired live on TV tonight and your father wants you by his side so the public see your support of it all, your support of him. I don’t know if you can save them but you have to try, Jada... for Rurik.” My breath catches at the sound of his name and I feel that now familiar sting. He continues, “You’re the governor’s daughter, a war hero no less: you’ve been painted as the poster child for the war on Reds. They’re practically saying you ripped your way out of that Red Camp with your bare hands. As far as the public are concerned you have more reason than anybody to hate Reds: If they’ll listen to anyone, it’s you. Here, take these”, he says offering me a small bundle, “don’t let anybody see you with them. I took these from your shirt pocket the night you were brought in.

I look at the bundle. My GI, then some kind of drawing. I look up at Ibrahim, confused. “It’s proof, Jada. Your Mum cracked it! This little diagram shows that as well as being genetic – which we already knew- the red gene can be carried by someone without them even knowing. Christ, half the city’s probably red! Do you have any idea how many babies and kids are abandoned or killed every year because of a rogue red gene turning up in the family? Moreover, for a Red like Rurik to be born to two non-red heads both parent must carry the red gene.”

Shaking my head in astonishment, I ask, “So...you’ve known all along? There are others? Why hasn’t anybody stopped it?”

“It’s your father and his father before him. They’ve built an army around themselves and this insane ideal, mostly funded by the city’s upper-crust. Half the city is too terrified to speak up against him for fear of the consequences and the other half...well, if I’d said any of this to you before you met Olivia and Rurik, would you have believed me?”

I blush with shame of how I reacted when I was told. “But wait, How do I – I mean, what do I say to them?!”

Approaching footsteps bring our meeting to an end. Ibrahim sighs heavily, “Jada, I don’t have all the answers but whatever happens tonight, remember you’re not alone”. He wraps an arm around me and opens the door as the guards come bounding into his office. He makes an excuse about having taken me to the toilet because the meds made me nauseous and honestly, I don’t have to try too hard to look the part as they escort me to my room.

~~~~

It’s an intimate affair. Well, besides the camera crews and a God-knows how many viewers, there’s only a couple of squads of guards, a handful of dignitaries, Dr Ibrahim (no doubt ordered here by father to keep an eye on me) and the prisoners. Four humans lined up before me, saying their final goodbyes to the world. They’re blindfolded and wearing prison coveralls, it’s difficult to tell if I recognise any of them from the brief stint I spent in the ER all those weeks ago but I know Rurik and Olivia aren’t there. Silly, I know, but a little part of me still hoped to see them there so that I might believe they’re still alive and I still stand a chance of saving them. “Do it for Rurik”, Ibrahim’s words replay in my head. I have no idea what “it” is yet but as I look at the dishevelled mess of Reds before me I know, no matter what, I can’t let them die tonight.

Father finishes up his seemingly crowd pleasing speech and covers his mic as he hisses at me through gritted teeth, “Jada! Could you try to look less like someone’s just drowned your puppy?! You’re supposed to be a proud soldier and daughter watching your city take down its enemy, remember!?” Then the ceremony begins. The firing squad march out and line up in perfect formation at the bottom of the stage. They salute my father and about turn, facing their targets. Despite all the pomp and ceremony everything seems to be happening at lightning speed. I still have no idea what it is that Olivia, Rurik and now Ibrahim saw in me that made them think I could somehow change all this, stop it from happening! Now I’m out of time. They’re out of time.

Father gives the first command, “Guards, Call to arms!”

“Wait!” I screech! All heads turn to me. I have nothing to follow; I just need this to stop. Father twitches a finger and a couple of guards shift at the stage entrance, ready to escort me off no doubt but I need to be here. I’m not likely to have the whole city watching me on live tv again. I can’t think of anything good enough, big enough that I can say to stop all this. In a panic I bark out, “No, father, let me.” What? Anything but that would’ve been better! It’ll only buy me – them, seconds. That’s not enough. Jesus, I wish they’d armed me, I could’ve just...just...I don’t know!

Father subtly motions for the guards to halt and turns to the camera with his painted smile, “Of course, she wants to help me, I’m no good at goodbyes. My girl knows me too well” and the crowd laughs politely. “The honour us all yours, dear”.

Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! I slowly pace forward taking a deep breath, hoping with every passing second I’ll be hit with a stroke of genius. I start the order, “Guards. Make ready” while they carry out the drill I find Ibrahim in the crowd. He reads people, he must know I’m losing it up here. Help me! He slowly but carefully pats his waistline then nods at me. What?! You’re hungry? Am I hungry?! I try to subtly glance down at my belly for a clue. My holster, of course! He’s telling me I am armed! I take another deep breath and flex my hand as I bellow the next line of the order, “Take aim”. One last look at Ibrahim and he nods at me. In less than a second I’ve released it from my holster and I’m pressing the shiny, black metal to my father’s body.

For one and a half seconds everything is frozen, nobody dares move or even breathe. Then, “beep, beep, beep”. Positive. That’s how the city learned what Rurik and Olivia told me all those weeks ago, “My father, the governor and the leader of the Red Raiders is himself a Red”.

~~~~

That was the beginning of the end. A new chapter has opened for our city. We’re still adjusting but we’re doing our best to re-educate the population bit by bit. My mother’s research was sent to every scientist and school in the city. We started Red outreach programs; you wouldn’t believe how many residents tested positive for carrying the gene! Ibrahim heads a therapy drop-in centre for parents who’d previously had no choice but to abandon their children or have them mercy killed. There are still stubborn factions and deep, raw wounds that we may never be able to fix... but at least now, with father safely removed from office, we’re free to try.

As for me? I lost everything I knew, everyone I ever loved but I discovered a lot about myself and a lot about others too. One of the people in the line-up turned out to be Rose, Rurik’s long-term girlfriend. Who would’ve thought we’d become best friends, bonded over the man we both loved and lost? She tells me stories about him all the time, it’s like I’m getting to know him through her. I’ll repay the favour one day; Rurik’s child will know daddy died fighting for justice to make this world a better place.

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