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Chapter 1

  The fist came like lightning smashing the side of my face with relentless force. The pain came in a wave of heat that I could feel decimating my jaw, he definitely broke it, but it is my own fault for letting him get inside my defense and throwing me off guard. It’s alright though, I have felt the pain before, a broken jaw isn’t going to stop me from mercilessly beating him to dust. As quickly as the punch came I send two more back landing one directly into his ribs throwing him off guard and uppercutting his chin. He falls back a bit unexpectant of the pain he feels, I grab his arm breaking his elbow over my shoulder before sending a few more blows to his ribs. He cries out in pain a bit and clutches his side as he falls to the ground. Based on my hits and power I’m guessing I broke at least 3 ribs. As I go in for the finisher, grabbing his midnight black shirt and readying my fist to connect with his jaw, a second punch much harder than the first sends me flying across the mat skidding on my shoulder across the floor. It doesn’t feel broken but badly bruised, maybe a hairline fracture, not enough to make me stop fighting. The second man, a tall burly man comes at me with impossible speed for his weight. I am able to shift just fast enough that I block the blow from his foot heading towards my chest with my arms, the kick shatters my right forearm and sends me flying into a concrete column which I hit my back against with a thud. My arm is throbbing in pain definitely broken as the heat is more intense than the heat on my shoulder. The burly man laughs and smashes his fist into his open hand.

  “Give it up little man,” the speedster giant yells at me, “without a way to access the magoi in the air around you, your dead in the water against me.” Through blurry vision I can make out the outline of power that surrounds his body. It’s a dark blue and that seems to almost shimmer, definitely a physical enhancement ward, only level one given the fact that with his current size he couldn’t kick a hole through my body. Meaning he is weak compared to other mages. Unfortunately for me, I have no magoi so he holds the advantage, at least I want him to believe he does. I try to say something in response to him but the searing pain around my mouth doesn’t allow me to do so. I begin to rise to my feet when I see the ward around his body grow brighter, he is about to charge me. His Magoi seems to focused on surrounding his hands and his legs given that those two places are the brightest with little dispersion among the other parts of his body. I start kick into my reserve energy and start running towards him at max speed. With my body mass and current condition I should be able to reach a maximum of seventeen kilos per hour, with his body weight of around 420 lbs with physical enhancements he can roughly travel twenty KPH if necessary. With my legs having taken minimal to no damage I should be in good condition as long as my left arm doesn’t come in contact with anything. He begins to charge at me as well, putting his hands in an “X” formation in front of him and focusing the large majority of his magoi, he obviously plans to be a battering ram. The second before he is able to make contact with me, I kick my right foot towards the ground as hard as I can, causing myself to roll violently to his left side. He continues forward, unable to control his momentum, and collides with the stone column, decimating it into chunks of rock and dust that fly across the room. He falls on the ground after impact, but after a couple of seconds stands once again with the only thing visible is the hue of his magoi through the dust. He created his own smoke screen, but he has the disadvantage of not being able to see me within it. I jump to my feet and notice a larger piece of stone that is broken off of the column. As I run into the smoke screen I grab the stone with my right hand. Based on what I can tell the smoke screen is about 20 feet wide, gives me a little bit of wiggle room but not much. Burly is swinging his hands wildly, lets magoi run from other parts of his body and be expelled from his hands as he swings. “Come on Chanel,” he taunts, “you really think a boy like you is worthy of the round table by hiding from an enemy.” I clench my jaw which only makes the pain worse, the anger within me begins to subside as I get a clear view of his head as he is walking around. I stay silent, and wait for my chance, when he within about five feet of me, we make eye contact. He sends s a fist towards my body, flowing with power, I dodge to the left with as he grazes my right shoulder. Using my right arm I grapple underneath is arm and use my legs to hoist myself up onto his shoulder. He begins to sag down a little from my weight but not enough to fall. His gaze meets mine as I hold the stone above his head. I don’t smile, I don’t grimace, I don’t give any expression other than just a monotone glare at him. As if letting him know “you were never even in the game.” He pleads for a second for me to show mercy, but I know he is just trying to reinforce his magoi around his head. Before he can even get out the “please” I smash the stone into his forehead causing a cracking sound to come from his skull and blood to pour down his face. He screams for a second but I shove the stone in his mouth and palm strike it in deeper. His jaw unhinges and his teeth shatter as blood begins to come out of his mouth through the sides of the stone. He collapses to the ground, unconscious or dead I am not sure, It is not my job to care. The dust clears and I stand above him, bruised and broken, yet victorious.

  “Enough” a loud booming voice proclaims. I look up and to my right to see a single light focused on the commander dressed in ceremonial robes a floor above me. He presses a button and the shades that cover the glass dissipate allowing natural light to flow in from the stained glass. I become illuminated with red and yellows and blues that come from a large stained glass window behind the commander featuring Achilles and Arthur hoisting the crucifix up into the air. Behind the commander is thirteen men all dressed in knights armor, but each is a bit different in color, size, and extravagance to show the difference of reputation between the knights. “You have done well in the trial of combat and have become worthy to be proclaimed as a true knight before Arthur and the almighty God,” the commander says. He turns behind him to the thirteen knights, “does any member of Arthur’s court here object to one Chanel Aguilas’s emmancipation into your order?” I can’t make out the knights faces from where I am but I do see one, with armor blue like the sea and ordained with images of violent waves and dark storms, stand and approach the commander.

  “We already know he is more than ready,” he turns to look at me, “as soon as he completes his first quest he will be given full right to call himself a knight.” The blue knights teal hair shimmers in the light, he gives me a sly smile through piercing green eyes, his sarcastic nature can be discerned from a mile away. The commander opens a chest next to him and pulls out a set of armor, it is sleek and a grayish blackish color, unlike the other knights armor it is segmented for more mobility while giving up protection.

  “Knight Andor,” the commander says to the teal knight, “would you be so wise as to give the first honor to your new brother knight: prospect”

  “It would be my dear honor to continue to look after Chanel” he says with his undying smirk. Andor has always been a little bit of a prick. He puts his hand over the shoulder plate and his teal magoi begins to shine around his body. The flow of magoi moves to his hand into a shimmering ball of energy he flows to a point that resembles a knife of glowing waves. He extends the knife towards the shoulder plate and begins to carve something I cannot make out from my position. As soon as he is done his body seems to condense into glowing water and flows down from the second floor onto the ground where he reforms into his human self. He struts over to be and as he approaches I kneel with my head bowed before him. “NOW CHANEL!” he says in an obnoxiously booming voice, “I ANDOR, nicknamed Poseidon, KNIGHT OF THE ROARING OCEAN! Extends the armor forward and it liquifies in his hands before leaping onto my body. It swirls around, completely immersing my body in its substance and then moves to my face where everything goes black, then an instant later my vision returns with a hood adorning my head. “I NAME THEE...THE KNIGHT OF STRATEGIC COMBAT…ARES,” Andor yells out lifting his hands above him in an act of showmanship. “RISE KNIGHT AND ACCEPT YOUR FATE!” I rise and look down at my body. My new armor is a grayish black that I saw before, it is segmented and extremely light to make up for my versatile movements. The knights and the commander stamp their different forms of weaponry against the ground as they greet me. I look to my shoulder plate and see the symbol of Arthur upon my shoulder, the golden excalibur shining against the gray. I turn my head to Andor and say:

  “Glory to Arthur, King of Knights, and Achilles Eyre, founder of the wuxing order.”

  not have enough power to do much damage to him, but he felt it as I saw the ripple of my fist cover his face. I come down on my feet and immediately take off running to the other side of the room. He comes running after me leveling his head down hoping to ram me, but I have seen this trick before and can’t be tricked by this again. I am going at roughly 23 mph and he is traveling at about 20 mph, with his mass of about 420 pounds hitting a solid object at that rate would cause a concussion even with his heightened rate of durability. I reach the concrete column on the other side of the room and quickly take my first step up the column gracefully letting the rate of momentum carry me up so I can land my second. I land my third step when I hear the rumble of his head slamming into the solid concrete shaking the structure and completely destroying the column itself. I jump doing a backflip in the air landing on my feet and putting my hand to the ground letting the energy flow out at the cushion onto the floor so I don’t feel as much of the force. The man lays on the ground unconscious with blood coming from the cuts in his head. As soon as the match is over I feel all the pain I was suppressing for the battle and I let out a single tear, only one, to let me feel the pain and realize the reality around me before pushing the pain back down so I can relax and let my body heal.

  “Well done,” a voice rings out from above me upon the balcony looking down upon the matt “you moved a little slowly and let yourself take too many shots, but you recovered and made your move against them, the council and I deem you worthy of the honor of Garroter.” A small metal object is thrown down before me. It is a little wristlet shining in a silver glare with the symbol of my clan sculpted into it, the tiger’s head with its eyes ablaze, and on the other side is the mark of being a Garroter. I place the trinket on my wrist and it glows in a blue light for a second as it seals itself next to my wrist and pops the other metal wristlet off showing my other rank.

  “Thank you Father and council for your honorable decision,” I say in a respectful tone, “I honor your decision and promise to make the clan proud and prove my devotion to our cause.” I kneel showing my allegiance.

  “Report to my office to receive your first orders and partner in 24 hours.” Father says, “you may go, Chanel son of King.” I walk to the side of the room where a large metal door slides open revealing a long grey hallway lined with men in black shirts. As I walk past, they kneel before me saying “Garroter.” As soon as I reach the end, I open the door to find 12 men in clan armor, an armor made of the metal citadel sculpted to fit each of their bodies colored black with a gold outline around each piece of the armor. The symbol for the clan in in the right hand corner of each of their chest plates in gold along with their mask, all black with yellow glowing coming from the eye holes and a golden streak in different forms across their mask showing their membership to the Garroters. They form a circle around me and each take off their mask showing each of their faces of different colors and ethnicities. The one in front of me smiles widely and looks at me with deep blue eyes

  “Chanel, with the confirmation of your wristlet we recognize that the council has made you a member of our group.” the people listening on around us cheer and holler in my honor, praising me for being the 13th, “Welcome Garroter Chanel, the ordinance.” He hands me a uniform like his own and a mask with 2 gold stripes coming down each of the yellow eyes. I thank him and walk across the long lawn in the courtyard of our fortress to my house set near the the main commons area and the training grounds in the Latin district, people cheer as I pass telling me of the great honor I have received and the duty I am fulfilling to the world and calling me by my new name, Ordinance. The word Ordinance is a word of resourcefulness, replenishment. It’s a name I did not expect to be given but I am thankful for it. I finally reach the house and walk inside and see that I am alone as my roommate is outside with the other Garroters. It's a nice house, a simple up stairs and down stairs with the kitchen below and our room upstairs. The kitchen is simple only stocked with things we need and a small living room with a TV and a PSX, posters hang on the wall showing just how nerdy Davis is as he is the decorator. His favorite poster is one of a bunch of anime characters crying in an audience as Kaori and Kousei from your lie in April play on the piano and violin. I have told Davis to take it down but he insist it is a masterpiece of art and won’t let it go. Other than that it is just a few posters of superheroes and the only poster I actually like of Troy and Abed from Community since we have always said, I am Abed and he really wants to be Troy. I walk upstairs to wood floors and mahogany paneling along the bottom half of the wall with the beige wall paint all across the room. A big window is in the back of the room giving a brilliant view of the valley below from the hilltop in which we established our pinnacle to our power, the fortress Eyre, named after our founder. It is a strategic place not only because invaders have to attack us at the place where we have the high ground but it also gives us a beautiful view of our dominion below. I sift through all the armor and clothing and come to the mask signifying my membership to the Gattorers. I smile and laugh a little, this is a moment I have been waiting to achieve since I was barely a boy and not only that I have finally reached this achievement but I am the youngest to ever do so. 19 years old, not even a man yet and I am honored with being a true warrior of The Wuxing clan. It is a true honor I wield with great respect, plus the valley girls love real warriors. I hear the door open behind me and turn to see Davis walking in. He looks at me and smiles widely while advancing towards me in a friendly manner, I think he wants a hug. He embraces me laughing, I grunt in pain as he squeezes almost every part of my body that has just been pummeled by a man with strength much greater than I.

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  “Woah sorry bro,” he says as he steps back putting his hands up, “forgot Johnson kinda kicked you into a wall, is it true that guy punched straight through that column?” He looks at me with wide eyes of bewilderment. Davis has always been obsessed with “The Remnants” as the council calls them. Apparently remnants are people with extraordinary abilities, like someone who is able to run 20 mph when you weigh 420 pounds or being able to slam your hand through a 4 foot thick solid concrete column splitting it all the way through while only so much as breaking your hand. Yes these people are powerful, and yes Johnson definitely could have done a lot more damage to me but they come with a side effect. Remnants are known for having strange hallucinations and blackouts, most of them end up going crazy from the abilities affecting their brain. Most of them deal with this for about 3 or 4 months before going full on crazy from trying to comprehend the things they see. Honestly, I have never given them much of a thought. I am a strong believer in the fact that if you want to get something done it takes training, prowess, and analyzing every circumstance to make sure I am the one who walks away from the fight, not some power to preserve my mind into believing I’m the best I can be because I drank some strange liquid or fell into a batch of chemicals like most “superhumans” are made.

  I look at Davis as he is bouncing around giddy for details about the match. “Yeah it’s definitely true, He shattered most of the bones in my arm and bruised my back pretty bad. Also in the middle of the match he started flying and shooting fireballs from his eyes like a crazy dragon man!” I say shaking my hands in a sarcastic way then rolling my eyes at Davis.

  “Are you serious?!” He looks at me with the most awestruck look on his face his mouth completely agape before, his demeanor changes, “You know this uninterested douche bag routine may work well with the ladies and winning the admiration of all the younger recruits but with me, the leader of the Garroters and your best friend, I see right through it. You are the same guy who use to steal apples from old man Rico’s orchard with me and free run across the valley to back here while he threatened to ‘come after us with his Griffins’,” Davis laughed in the way that was way to extravagant to be real. I smile a little remembering the times well before coming back to my senses and realizing that reminiscing about the past won’t help me in the future especially with my first task or meeting my new partner. Davis lays down on his bed and opens up one of his favorite comics pretending to read I can tell from the fact that every few seconds he would look at me out of the corner of his eyes, also from the fact the comic is upside down.

  “Oh come on, look around this room. Do you really expect me to be a fan of ‘Remnants’ when on my side of the room I have so much as an alarm clock, a few weapons, and some interesting literature,” I move my hand in a sweeping motion to highlight the books I had stacked in the corner, The Odyssey, The Iliad, The Art of War, and Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The battle of the Labyrinth. Compared to his side which was filled with comics and posters of guys in iron suits and shields that screamed American pride. I was always the type of person to try and find a way to keep everything nice and orderly, a clear room equals a clear mind. Davis’s side looked like after the first two days of camp when you decide to give up on being organized and just throw your clothes in a general area around the bed.

  “Says the one training day in and day out to try and make himself better than a remnant,” he says slyly thinking he has one upped me.

  “I train everyday so that one day I can become a leader as great or hopefully better than my father.” I say trying to show him my dedication to the clan.

  “Oh settle down King, you don’t need to prove anything to me you’re still that 10 year old kid who always told me we should see the world and discover the best warriors in the world and beat them all,” he turns and gives me a sideways look, “actually you were kind of a messed up kid now that I think about it.”

  I laugh a good laugh to show him my agreement. “Yeah you're right, listen I got some time to kill before I go train with Tonga, Mortal Kombat?”

  He turns and smiles, “You can’t use Erron Black,” he says boldly knowing I use that character just to make him mad enough that he will storm out.

  “No Liu Kang,” I counter with, knowing that that is the only character he knows how to use and can only spam one move where Liu Kang kicks you all over the place with great speed and dexterity that I have been trying to learn how to translate into real life.

  He frowns at me, “This is why no one wants to play video games with you, you’re a cocky douchebag.” He stands up and walks downstairs, I follow him down as he rants about how he doesn’t spam Liu Kang and has a very clear strategy behind the way he uses the character. I sit on the couch downstairs and wait for him to put the game into the PSX. He turns on the tv and blue light fills the room hurting my eyes and causing me to have a major headache for unexplainable reasons. We sit and I massacre him for a couple of hours until I finally have to go. I step out into the cold fresh night moving past the assortment of buildings done in different styles to represent the different cultures of the people who have joined from across the world. I live in the Latin American section where there are a couple of palm trees and houses that look like they came straight out of a telenovela. I pass through the Asian district and enter into the dojo modeled after the training houses for the Samurai in Japan. A Dark skin colored man with a bald head and a stocky build stands in the middle of the dojo wearing his Garroter Armor and wielding a naginata. He spins it with grace completely focusing on the area around him, moving the weapon as an extension of his own being through the air slicing with such precision that they sharp edge of the blade is able to cut the air currents giving that nice satisfying “SHHHHINK.”

  I stand before the entrance wearing for the first time my new gear strutting with the same pride as a rooster. “May I enter the Dojo Tonga?” I say as I bow before the entrance. He sheaths his naginata and looks at me with his one brown one hazel eye.

  “It’s about time Ordinance,” he says looking halfway annoyed and excited at the chance to beat me like he does everyday, “you’re going to be late in my dojo after becoming a Garroter this morning?”

  “I’m sorry Master Tonga I promise it won’t happen again.” Tonga is a great man and an even greater warrior, he wants the best out of everybody so he is very intense but it helps us train to the best of our ability.

  “Enter,” he states letting me enter into the dojo. He sits on the ground and closes his eyes. I can tell from his breathing pattern that he is meditating and trying to prepare his body for the first attack. This is a tradition between the two of us, an ancient form of samurai training that relaxes the body making it seem as if the person meditating is unaware or unprepared for an attack when it is actually the opposite. I stroll around the matt looking at the racks full of weapons, I come up to one with two war axes place in an X in their rack. I silently take them down along with a couple of throwing knives and place them in my belt. I am not really a weapons guy I usually prefer hand to hand combat but when I do use weapons I pretty much stick to knives and axes, those are the only things I really train with. I unsheath one of my knives and throw it with precision aimed right at Tonga’s head. Based on the about of force and angle I’m guessing the knife is traveling around 85 mph, but this doesn’t seem to be a problem for Tonga as I am only 10 feet away and he catches the knife in his hand without even opening his eyes. He jumps up throwing the knife back in my direction. I dodge it as it skims past my ear and go into to strike my opponent. I come down with my hurt arm aiming for his chest thinking that the impact will cause a significant amount of pain as I put stress upon my hurt forearm, but as he grabs my fist and twist my arm I don’t feel that much pain. I must have shown my surprise on my face because Tonga looks at me and says “Your armor has stimulants in it to help bone growth and helps you keep fighting. It won’t heal major wounds like fatal stabs or blows to the head but it will repair your bones fast enough to make a difference in the fight.” He doesn’t hesitate after he is done speaking to send a punch straight to my nose causing an instant rush of blood along with a break to the bone. I stutter back a bit and wipe the blood away as Tonga puts his mask over his face, the glowing yellow eyes with the stripes going diagonally to make an X across his face. I do the same and notice that the mask has many different gadgets and modes like night vision and infrared. I get to sidetracked by the gadgets and don’t notice the butt end of Tonga’s naginata jamming into my rib cage and then he does a spiral kick flying through the air coming to take me out. I grab his foot before it connects with my face and slam him onto the ground causing a shock through his back. I land a flurry of punches to his abs, by this time a crowd has gathered to watch the encounter, but Tonga doesn’t miss a step in this deadly dance. He quickly scissor kicks my legs apart taking apart my defensive stance then kicks off my chest allowing him room to get off the ground. I collect myself and unsheath my war axes assessing what my opponent’s next move is going to be. He runs throwing a shuriken aiming right for my head that I quickly dodge hitting it away with one of my axes as he runs towards me with the blade aimed towards my chest. He tries to force the blade into my lower abdomen but I counter hooking the shaft of the weapon in my axe and sliding up allowing my elbow to connect with his face. Even through the fiberglass mask, I can tell he felt that as his head shifts back a bit and his legs get wobbly. He regains himself quicker than I can react and pushes his weight against me forcing me to the ground. He steps back a bit and I get back up. We exchange a few parrys as our blades cross satisfying the crowd with the elegance of our weapons. As the match continues, I feel my body feeling wobbly with exhaustion and Tonga makes his move. He goes for a Jab with the naginata right into my pelvis which I quickly block, but he wanted me to do this. He sidesteps in letting the naginata be thrown from his body and lands 6 punches right to my unprepared stomach before palm striking my face forcing my mask off my face. I fall to the ground feeling the hot coals of pain across my body, he gets on top of me and asks ‘Do you concede?’

  I reply swiftly “never, finish it,” with one stroke he strikes my nose again causing enough pain to render me unconscious.

  I wake up a few hours later with Tonga sitting over me eating an apple. The juice from each cut of the apple slices causes a single drip to fall upon my forehead, mixing with my headache giving me the sensation of water torture. I get up slowly, not having had time to suppress my pain so the waves feel immensely more powerful.

  “You can stay sleeping on the mat if you want, you have to wake up in six hours for your meeting anyway,” Tonga says in a calm tone.

  “It’s 1:00?” I ask slowly getting to my feet and stretching to subside the pain.

  “Indeed,” he replied, “you told me to finish it, so I did. Your form was better than usual. You were able to guess most of my attacks and counter in your own way but you exerted too much, letting yourself get tired. You showed it enough that I knew I could use a big attack and you wouldn’t be prepared. You have to breath, steady your breath.” He breathes slowly for a few minutes and I follow feeling the flow of oxygen put me at ease. “Steadying your breath will help you focus and hide your exhaustion.” We bow to each other and I make the trip back to the Latin District in the courtyard. Each step feels like agony with the pressure on my ribs and face. Tonga definitely didn’t pull any punches tonight. I walk across the courtyard with the spewing fountain and tiny houses that look like they hold hispanic drug lords before I stop a few 100 meters from my room seeing a figure run through the shadows of the district. I ready my mind analyzing every possible way the figure could attack me and I could defend. The figure stops for a minute and slowly steps into the light, it's a woman wearing Garroter armor. Her long auburn hair set gracefully around her shoulders glistens in the moonlight. Her face is round and symmetrical with a few freckles across her nose barely visible off of her mocha skin. Her body type toned to a specific point showing that she has been training to be a warrior for a while. I freeze surprised to see her here and in Garroter armor. I think I had seen her around Eyre before but had never had a conversation with her. She turns noticing me for the first time, her eyes like emeralds shining brightly in the early dawn inviting you in and piercing through my soul. She gives me a slight smile then walks into one of the houses around the cul de sac structure where my house also resides. I finally thaw out and walk into my house and immediately hear the sound of Davis snoring upstairs. I steadily climb the stairs letting each step bring me closer to the drowsiness overtakes me and I crumble onto my bed where dreams take me away in almost an instant. Dreams of piercing Green eyes.

  I awake to Davis singing Adele at the top of his lungs while cooking pancakes in the kitchen. Dim night comes through the window and for a few seconds I still see the green eyes haunting my dreams before they disappear into the night. I get dressed and come downstairs to Davis telling me of new techniques he researched to dominate me in Mortal Kombat. I shove a few pancakes in my mouth to build up my stamina and give me some nutrients before the meeting. 5:30, I slept about 4 hours last night, more than usual. Davis wishes me luck as I step out the door. The morning air forces a yawn out of me as it feels somehow both cold and humid. I guess that’s kinda the curse of being in Latin America. I head over to the main headquarters, a three story building in the northwest side of the 3 mile fortress, easily the most heavily fortified part of the the fortress. The building itself has a Greek architecture with giant white columns of marble and the triangular roof with the large bronze door leading within. As I walk into the building, the marble is everywhere and people are scurrying all about getting from one place to the next as if fate depends on it. In the center of the room, a 20 foot sculpture of Chandler Eyre, the founder, holding his signature Katana in front of his face. The blade is sharp enough to cut his gaze, piercing through the room through his empty marble eyes. Although his blade is made of marble it still feels sharp like a regular steel sword, this statue stays not only to remember our founder but also to show his prowess and power, even in death. I cringe a bit before head over to the left side of the room and head up the marble staircase to the balcony that forms a large rectangle looking down on the room. I walk three doors down then come to a wooden door with the words COMMANDER KING inscribed in a plaque on the door. I open the door into a small room with a woman sitting at a desk next to a door with glass that is obscured enough that only ripples of a silhouette can be seen inside. I sit down in a chair in front of the woman's desk, she gives me a quick look then goes back to typing on her computer not giving me a second look. I close my eyes calming my nerves for the encounter ahead for what feels like 30 seconds when I am interrupted by the woman.

  “Your father will see you now, Chanel,” she says looking at me with a fake smile.

  “It’s Ordinance now Ms. Alvarez,” I say as I stand up and walk to the door. I steady my breath as I put my hand on the knob of the door and slowly twist it hearing the click and slide of the lock. I enter the room, realizing I am entering the first moment of my new life.

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