I half-laugh and half-cry.
I look up and see both of my parents and Granddad standing now, in a row at the window, lining up. Distraught, angry faces. Mr Berry is not pleased. He is pacing. He is on the phone. Probably hearing the guards’ concerns, he is trying to do something about it. Granddad is arguing with the security guard. I can feel the tension in that room from here. I take deep breaths; I will not scream.
“Here.” Bark appears in my line of sight with a bottle of water and a straw. It’s a trick; it must be a trick. Tina guides it into my mouth, and as I suck I think about my tongue being seared. It’s next. I retch again. I can’t hold down the water.
It is pandemonium in the viewing gallery. I can feel their energy, their erratic, angry movements. My eyes move from side to side. I try to focus, but I can’t. I know why I’m here, and then I don’t know why I’m here. I understand, and then I don’t. I think it’s fair, and then I don’t. I wish I’d never done what I’ve done, and then I’m glad I did. I want to scream, but I don’t.
Suddenly my family members scatter like a flock of birds, as though something was thrown at them, and then I see Judge Crevan in my face, a smug sneer twisting his mouth. Mr Berry must have gone to get him, tried to stop the inhumanity. Too late, but now he’s here in the Branding Chamber. He blocks my view of my family.
“Had enough, have we, Celestine?”
I groan. I will not cry. Not to him.
They say I’m numbed, but I’m feeling sensations on my wounded body. Tingling. If the anaesthetic wears off, it will turn to stinging, then burning. I don’t want it to wear off. Suddenly, this is my main fear. I wish I’d paid more attention to the information in my cell – how long does it take before the anaesthetic wears off?
“I warned you. I told you this would happen, but you didn’t listen.”
Crevan’s red robe is the same colour as the scar on my hand, and I’m guessing as my foot, chest and temple. My blood is on his robe. He did this to me. Him. I feel nothing but disgust for him. I used to think that I couldn’t be afraid of someone so human, now I realise it is his humanity that scares me most, because despite having all those traits, having shared the moments we’ve shared, he could still do this to me. Now I find him terrifying. I see the evil in him.
“Oh, Celestine, it hurts me for you to look at me like that. I’m not the winner, either, you know. Art says he’ll never speak to me again. Heartbreaking for me, as you can imagine. First, I lost Annie, and now Art. And you caused that.”
Don’t speak, I tell myself. One more branding and it will all be over. It will all be over.
“I’m here to give you mercy, Celestine. Say you’re sorry, admit you were wrong, that you are Flawed, and I will cancel the tongue. It’s the worst one, that one. Everybody says so.”
I try to shake my head. But I can’t. I won’t speak. Instead, I stick my tongue out, showing him that I’m ready for the branding.
I see the look of surprise on everyone’s face. Granddad punches the air in defiance, not happy, but bursting with anger. He won’t want me to give in. I’ve come this far, it would be illogical to stop now, I will have gained nothing. I feel tears dripping down the side of my face, but I’m not crying.
“Brand her tongue,” he says coldly, then steps back.
I see my family take a step back from the glass, Crevan’s closeness too much for them.
My family does not sit still. Nor does Mr Berry, who starts thumping on the window, trying to get Crevan’s attention. My dad shoves the guard, trying to make him do something to stop this, and they end up having a physical fight in the viewing room. I have never seen my dad like this before. Crevan turns around and watches the pandemonium.
“Get the family out of there!” he shouts. Funar appears at the door, and he manages to pull Mum and Granddad from the room. Mr Berry follows them out, ranting and raving at Funar. Dad is holding his own against the security guard, delivering a blow to his jaw, but suddenly Funar appears again, having taken my family somewhere, probably into the holding room or the nearby cells, and takes Dad by surprise. The two guards gain control and drag Dad out. The viewing room is now empty.
“Oh my God,” June whispers over my shoulder.
“Do it,” Crevan says.
I whimper slightly as they open my mouth and place the clamp in.
“It will be quick, dear,” Tina says, urgency and panic in her voice.
“Step away from her,” he demands angrily.
“If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d like to do my job and remain by her side,” Tina says, a tremble in her voice.
“Very well.”
An injection in my tongue. It instantly feels swollen and enormous in my mouth. I gag.
“One, two …” Sear.
I don’t scream. I can’t. I haven’t the use of my tongue. I want to kick my legs, stamp my feet and wave my arms, but I’m restrained and can do nothing. I can just feel my body push against the restraints and hear a sound that I don’t realise until a moment later is coming from me. It is worse than a scream; it is an animal, guttural sound, a groan, a grunt, something so deep inside me, a pain that I have never experienced nor heard before. One I never want to hear again, but I will, over and over in my nightmares.
“Repent, Celestine!” Crevan shouts at me.
I’m unable to get the word out as my tongue is numb and feels swollen and oversized, but I can see that he is distressed now. He is not getting his way. I’m not following his plan. It was for me to say sorry and the branding would stop. I will never say sorry to him.
“Judge Crevan, we must get her to the ward. Her wounds need medical attention,” Tina says, urgency in her voice. “We have never gone on for so long. We must see to her quickly.”
I feel the strap around my head release, and I am able to lift my head from the headrest and look at him directly now.
“Repent!” he shouts at me, louder again.
I shake my head violently. I’ve come this far. It’s finished. I’ll never tell him I’m sorry even if right now it is the thing I am feeling most.
They free my hands and my ankles. They are moving quickly now, wanting to remove me, and probably themselves, from this situation. They start to help me up, Tina on one side, June on the other. Bark begins to clean and tidy away the equipment. They can’t wait to get me out of here. I can’t walk – my foot is completely numb and my legs are shaking so badly. A wheelchair has been placed beside me.
“Brand her spine,” Judge Crevan says suddenly, chillingly.
Bark turns to face him slowly. “Pardon, sir?”
Tina and June freeze, look at each other wide-eyed.
“You heard me.”
“Sir, she’s just a child,” Tina whispers, and I can hear the shake in her voice and sense the tears about to come.
“Do it.”
“Sir, we have never seared a spine before,” Bark says nervously.
“Because we have never seen anyone so Flawed to their very backbone like this lady. Brand. Her. Spine.”
“I can’t do it, sir. I’m afraid I’ll have to check first with the—”
“I