My AP Lit teacher gave us an assignment to write a story based on the events of Remains of the...
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His name was Marcus Lee. He was experienced in all types of skills, including camping. His first masters—like mine—were kind and took him out into the woods to learn outdoor skills along with their children. He described them fondly, his eyes always brightening whenever he spoke of them. Whenever I mentioned the doctors, Marcus would get very angry and make a low growling noise. When I mentioned his fury to him out of context, he told me he did not appreciate how I grouped the doctors with his first masters. They were of a completely different type of people. His first masters didn’t sell him; they were killed in a car crash. He explained that the doctors sold me out to the Huse family for money and protection. The doctors, he insisted, were evil. I would not argue, for I did not have a good reason to fight back. Eventually, I stopped speaking of the doctors. Marcus’s and my relationship got on much better afterwards, though his first masters would come up in conversation often. I trained myself to stop listening.
Marcus decided he had the power to change the whole way of thinking in the universe. He just needed to change into a human to get respect from other humans. To fix the world, we had to fix ourselves. Still, we lived on the run because we were escaped Servants. Our species was never meant to fight back; we were trained to serve and serve alone. The woods were our main are of sanctuary, but sometimes we got to stay in towns. There, Marcus would preach his ideas. He would tell the crowd how we were going to earn dignity for our people and all of the other species in the universe. “The greater beings do not have the right to control us,” he would scream. “Anna Louise and I beg you to come with us and make a difference!” I didn’t have the heart to tell him I just wanted to go home. I would breathe in the smell of my old coat and remember the past.
To my surprise, people were actually moved by Marcus. Some would come live with us in secret for a while unless they became bored with the life. Life was dull, I admit. Others stayed with us until the end of our journey together. A couple of loyal citizens informed towns of our arrival. We would be welcomed with banners, flowers, and food. We were given dignity through Marcus’s followers. They respected us to the point where we became full of light. A silvery glow would follow us through the streets. Our names became Mr. and Mrs. Silver. Marcus took pride in the fact they thought we were as valuable as the greatest metal on earth. I was proud of him.
One night, when we were hiding in the woods, Marcus skulked into our tent as I was reading wilting maps. I was tracing lines down the old paper, attempting to find direction in such confusing pictures. My head began to ache when cold, long fingers brushed my white hair from my forehead. “What are you doing, Mrs. Silver,” Marcus whispered. We had decided when the nicknames first came out to call each other by those names. That way, no one would ever truly know who we were. My hand froze in the middle of the line.
“Attempting to find a way to the capitol, Mr. Silver,” I murmured back. Marcus seemed discontent with the answer but let it pass. His fingers wrapped themselves through my hair and twirled the strands. My nerves exploded at his touch. I leapt away from him. “What do you think you’re doing, Mr. Silver?” I cried out. He looked so confused I wanted to cry out and hold him. A realization dawned on him. He could never have me as long as I was who I was. He chewed on his lower lip, considering the situation. Fury filled his purple eyes, turning them a devilish red. He stormed from the tent, leaving me to trace my lines on my maps.
I do believe I had fallen in love with the great Marcus Lee. Even through this realization, I wouldn’t let myself open up to the man who had been caring for me for almost two years. Though life would change drastically, my mind remained. After that night Marcus Lee began working even harder to bring our adventure to an end. I tried to make amends several times, but he would not even look at me. My heart was breaking. I worked even harder towards the project he planned out for us; no matter what I did he would not forgive me for denying him. I couldn’t blame him for never allowing me back into his heart—I couldn’t even forgive myself, why should he have to?