Sleeping past noon was simply not something Bryony did. She was a trained soldier! Technically. She was disciplined! Sort of… Quickly banging the sides of her head with her fists, she focused back on the room surrounding her. She had 10 minutes to get out of here before they made her pay for another night. Throwing the covers away, she stumbled towards the wall to pull the plug on her phone. She rolled up the cord while hooking the jacket she slipped off onto the floor last night on her foot. She bounced on the ball of her foot for a moment until she could put the cord down and put the jacket on while trying her best to put her piercing in with one hand even though she knew it was impossible. After about of second of this she gave up, moving on to other things and stuffing the ring in her pocket. All of her things were scattered around the floor, despite the fact that there wasn’t much of her stuff to begin with. Perhaps that’s why all the coffee filters and soap bars were missing. She never had much, so she liked pretending she had more than she actually did. Stealing was wrong, but that sort of thing count right? I’m not the only one who does that, she reminded herself as she stuffed the last of her stolen belongings into the duffel bag she sometimes called a suitcase, Comedians talk about it all the time. I’m fine. The niggling feeling in her stomach still wasn’t going away, but she could ignore it. 5 minutes to spare. Not bad for waking up a little bit ago. She quickly dressed in her uniform, then tried to slap on some makeup. Just some mascara and eyeshadow. She never cared for the plastered feeling that foundation and thicker makeup gave her. She then put in her piercing. Yes, with the uniform and everything she was trying to look more professional, but if it was that big of a problem for them that she had a piercing that was their problem not her’s. They weren’t worth her time then anyways.
She was impatient in the elevator, but also kind of wished that the elevator wouldn’t stop. Once she got to that island, she wouldn’t be leaving it for so long. It kind of terrified her. But, she had to scout it out. If she remained here, cozy and safe like everyone around her did as a child, she wouldn’t ever forgive herself. Perhaps there was nothing wrong with Elite, but what if there was… Kids could end up just like her; lugging military equipment through the desert with a special set of sharpened sticks of wood no one expected to kill them. That’s what happens when special talents somehow magically gets discovered in a child slave girl. People would rather use them like objects than as people in her experience. She didn’t have a guarantee that Elite would be any different and she wouldn’t leave until she did. Even if they were being trained as special agents and she would eventually end up in war again, she wouldn’t mind if that meant she somehow made sure at least one person was safe.
“Ma’am. You missed the check-out time.”
“Damn.”
