Free CapturedbytheSS by Gail Starbright

named
Victoria. Before I started school, we were all friends. My siblings used to let
me tag along with them when they went to the mall. Sometimes, my brother would
even give me piggyback rides.
    But something happened to us shortly after my parents came
into the money. My siblings grew cold toward me, even cruel, and I never knew
why.
    “I can tell by your expression that you did have siblings.”
    I feel I’m unwillingly revealing too much. I didn’t intend
to tell him anything.
    “Your siblings weren’t chosen. I can see that in your eyes. You were the special one, the one your parents doted over. Very few are accepted in
the program you were in. You most likely received gifts from teachers and other
parents. Your siblings grew to hate you, jealous of the attention you received.
I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them even attacked you.”
    Everything he’s saying is syncing up with events in my life.
As a child, I was showered with small gifts on a near daily basis. Just as he
said, they were gifts from teachers and other parents. It was always just
little things, like a box of crayons or a sheet of stickers or a refrigerator
magnet. It was never anything major, but the trinkets were just enough to label
me as special and rub my siblings and classmates the wrong way.
    One night, I vaguely remember my father whispering to my
brother, “Why couldn’t you score the same as Isabel did on those tests?” At the
time, Mark was fourteen. I was seven.
    Later that same evening, my brother attacked me with a
kitchen knife. I still have a long scar across my lower back from that night.
My father pulled him off me and beat him nearly to death for it. My older
sister Victoria only stood aside and watched as my mother scooped me up and
rushed me to the hospital.
    The next day, when my mother brought me home, my older
sister later cornered me in her room and told me, “You got what you deserved,
you little bitch.” After that, things only got worse between me and them. I
often slept in the hall outside my parents’ room to be closer to my only
protectors.
    My captor doesn’t say anything. I think he knows he’s
upsetting me.
    I don’t like thinking about all this. For some reason, I’m
suddenly wondering what my life would have been like if I had only failed those
stupid tests. Maybe my sister would have invited me to her wedding or maybe my
brother would have introduced me to my niece. It’s only through my parents I
know anything about their lives.
    Of course, to be fair, they know nothing about my life. As
far as my family knows, I’m in the military, but no one knows exactly what I
do.
    “Does it annoy you that your country decided your fate for
you, American?”
    “I made my own choices,” I argue feebly.
    “No you didn’t, and you know it.”
    “Then they chose me because I was good, because they needed
me.” I feel as if he’s backing me into a corner. I have the distinct impression
he’s trying to break me down…and unfortunately, I think he’s succeeding.
    “So you’re saying their actions were justified? They had a
right to decide your fate?”
    I hate to admit it, but he’s got me all turned around. It
freaks me out that he knows all this. I’m not even sure what the right answer
is. “I…I don’t know.”
    A subtle smile graces his lips. I have a bad feeling he has
me exactly where he wants. I feel shaken and confused, which I think was his
intention. All his questions are starting to gnaw away at me.
    I don’t want to believe him, but I can’t easily shake off
his words. How the hell do you argue with the truth? Everything he said is
accurate.
    Swallowing hard, I have a brief mental image of my
second-grade teacher taking me to a small room and making me watch a film—no,
making me watch several films. And then I remember a different teacher
and another film and another.
    And for some reason, all those stupid films from school are
all rushing to the surface and all I can hear is that