I stared at the ground. My eyes fixated on a single blade of grass among the thousands in my field of view. It stretched up toward the sky, grasping for sunlight. Every now and then, a forceful gust of wind made it quiver.

I was barely able to form the words, but to my surprise, my voice came out sounding calm and assured. "Do it. Pull the trigger. Please." I leaned toward the barrel until I felt the cold kiss of gunmetal on my forehead.

The blade of grass was still. A tear rolled off my cheek and splatted in the dirt beside it, rapidly disappearing into the Earth. I imagined it being soaked up into the grass.

Suddenly, the gun before me lowered. I'd been resting so much of my weight on it that I lurched forward, stomping on the grass I'd been so dramatically fixating on.

"Tess, is that you?"

I had to exert what felt like all of my mental strength to wrench my eyes away from the ground, then slowly climb the figure before me until we were eye-to-eye. The voice sounded unfamiliar, and I did not recognize the face before me. It was a young man, probably not any older than myself, with gray-blue eyes and freckles scattered across his cheeks. He began to fidget with the gun like he was uncomfortable holding it. He drew his eyebrows together. "It's me. . . Matthew."

Instantly, the face before me appeared to morph, and I could spot the vague remnants a younger, familiar face within it. The voice also became recognizable as a deepened version of one I had heard speak many times before.

A high-pitched, hysterical laugh escaped my lips, and once again I had to catch myself from falling as my legs nearly crumpled out of sheer relief. "Matt."

It was my childhood neighbor and best friend who had happened to gun me down. He didn't feel real - a forgotten remnant of my past life standing before me. Sometimes it was easy to forget that everyone I knew as a child was still living out their uninterrupted lives in the city.

His eyes swept the area, then he gestured for us to move into the treeline behind an imposing old oak where we continued our hushed conversation.

"I'm so sorry. I was following orders. They said you were dangerous rebels. How...How did you get here? Why are you outside the city?"

I spoke urgently, in a whisper in case any of his fellow soldiers crept into earshot. "You remember three years ago when a bunch of kids at our school started disappearing? They took us. The government. My neighbor was dragged from her house kicking and screaming, then they were coming for me next. I...I escaped, ran as far as I could, and met up with a few others like me."

He laced his fingers together and planted his hands on his head. His eyes darted back and forth as if he was trying hard to process what I'd said. Then he looked down at me. "God, are you okay? I'm so sorry. . . I can't believe I held a gun—"

"It's fine," I insisted.

He stared at me wide-eyed. "It's not fine. You just encouraged me to shoot you in the head, Tess!"

"Keep your voice down," I urged. But my voice was quivering. I swallowed hard, but the lump forming in my throat remained. I took a few ragged breaths, trying to bury the feelings that were bubbling up from my stomach against my will. I resented them.

Matt's eyes bored into mine with a look of concern until I had to look away. I remembered that his father was a psychologist. He wasn't letting this go. I averted my eyes, but I could still feel his analyzing me.

"Don't look at me like that," I said, but my tone was harsher than I intended. "I just . . . It doesn't matter. I didn't mean what I said." My eyes shot back to his, and I could tell he wasn't accepting my words. I wished he would just let it go.

Instead, he said, "It's okay to let it out," and stepped forward until I could feel the warmth of his breath. I wasn't sure what he was doing until he carefully extended his arms around me into an embrace, burying my face into his shoulder. I recalled that we hugged a lot as kids - we'd had a close, almost brother-sister bond.

But when his now much stronger arms constricted around me, the worst memories jolted through my mind - the man in the club who grabbed me, along with Jason earlier that day, forcing me to watch as the soldiers descended upon my home.

A single sob clawed its way out of my throat by force, emerging as a hideous, muffled shriek. I tore myself away from him, clamping a hand over my mouth to stifle myself. Now I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes at all. I paced in a small circle until I could hold the sobs at bay. "I can't deal with this emotional shit, not right now," I spoke in between gasps for air. "What matters right now is that everyone I care about is going to be taken away." Involuntary tears leaked out of my eyes; their warmth made my cheeks burn. "If you really want to help me, maybe you can start with that."

In my periphery, I could still make out Matt staring at me, but I was glad I couldn't make out his expression.

Suddenly, the radio clipped to his belt sounded an order for him to return to base immediately.

We met eyes. "I'll do everything I can, Tess. I promise. For now, you need to run. Get as far from here as possible," he instructed before bursting out of the treeline and disappearing from view.

I realized that my cheeks were still burning from the tears. Except it wasn't just from embarrassment. It felt like drops of acid were running down my face, searing my flesh. I frantically rubbed them away with my remaining shirt sleeve, which softened the pain to a dull sting. It hurt more to recall that the other sleeve was most likely still tied around Kyle's wounded hand. Yet another pang of pain plucked at my heartstrings when I remembered that it was my fault that he had been captured.

This time, I couldn't run. My legs gave out, or maybe my brain wasn't working right. Either way, I simply couldn't make myself move any longer. I spotted a wicked, tangled patch of bramble nearby and managed to drag myself into it. I was able to ignore the thorns digging into my skin - the pain simply didn't register. Underneath the branches was a well-hidden, secluded bed of dirt for me to rest on. I allowed my eyelids to fall, and with them, I tumbled into the oblivion of dreamless slumber.

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A/N: I thought I should post something, even if I'm not super happy with it. Please let me know what you think...is it different from what you expected to happen after that cliffhanger? :P

I would like to see Tess happy for once, lol. One should not bottle up so many negative emotions. Maybe I spend too much time on that sometimes? I feel like I should get back on track with more plot developments and more of other characters. But I generally just write whatever comes out tbh - it's how all of the rest of the story was born...so I guess it's true to form.

I hope you're all doing well, genuinely.

If you happen to need someone to talk or just vent to, I'm here to listen. :)