I've decided that today was the day to talk about Fritz. It seems appropriate somehow. So, to continue with my story. My memory of the day we met is nearly perfect.
When I woke, I was not in the hospital wing, but a small room outside of it. This unfamiliarity startled me, as did the sudden touch I felt on my wound. I sat up as quickly as possible and demanded to know what was going on.
Sitting in front of me was someone that in appearance alone surpassed everyone I'd ever been attracted to before in my life. His bright red eyes seemed concerned, boring into me with an unspeakable intensity. His jet-black hair was spiky and haphazard, and while not malnourished or emaciated, he was still rather gaunt. His mere presence both calmed and excited me, and he hadn't even said a word yet. I wanted to reach out and touch him so badly, but I knew that'd be improper and probably entirely weird, especially if he liked girls.
He put up his hands as a gesture that he wasn't going to hurt me. He was my new healer, as he explained. His voice was light, flighty, and gentle, like he didn't want to hurt my ears by speaking too deeply or loudly. I tried to breathe, but found a soft panic growing in my chest. Before I knew it, I was spilling everything to him- that I was an Omega, that I was six feet four inches and slightly underweight because as of late I'd been forgetting to eat sometimes, and even that I thought I felt something for him. He took it all surprisingly well with just a smile. He told me we'd have more time to get to know each other better later, and for that day, he was gone.
For the next few months, I saw him every day and would talk to him about my problems. Day by day, I fell harder and harder for him, and he opened up to me. He started to tell me about some of his philosophies, and they made so much sense to me. I didn't understand why Omegas weren't being treated fairly, nor had I seen it before he brought it up. But everything became so clear. I had been raised to believe they were faultless, and here they were, with faults. It was a bit shocking, but I appreciated that he had showed me the truth.
Eventually, inevitably, one of these thoughts slipped from my tongue as a retort which ended up being a full-blown rant. Though it was my fault, Fritz took all responsibility for it. He was taken out behind the buildings with me, and I had to watch them shoot him in the head. I was offered the chance to do it myself, but I declined. I didn't fully understand what was happening, because up until that point, death had been an extremely vague concept that I hadn't comprehended. I declined more out of my dislike for guns than personal attachment.
In a second everything made sense. His lifeless body fell to the ground right before my feet. I couldn't stop shaking. I managed to get some of the precious red life onto a glass slide, so I could keep him with me, before everything went dark and I woke up in one of the padded rooms where they keep the mentally unstable.
I later discovered that had he been human, he would not have been killed.
This was where I got all my ideas for the rebellion, and really this entire thing has been a vow for revenge. Because Fritz was killed unjustly, and it filled me with such a consuming hatred that I had to do something about it. The rest of this story, however, I suppose is best saved for another time.
Until next we meet.
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