I lie on my stomach and grab fistfuls of the sheets as Plath treats the wounds on my back.

“Maybe you should’ve knocked me out before doing this,” I get out through clenched teeth.

“I’m almost done.”

“Who did this to me?” I peek at him from over my shoulder. I see pain in his eyes as he works.

“I’m not telling you.” He looks at me for a second then continues.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply as he cleans another wound and exhale when he puts on the healing salve that brings immediate relief.

“Why not?” I ask as he pulls my shirt back down. I sit up slowly and look at him as he starts putting the supplies he was using away in the drawer beside my bed.

“Because they’ll never do it again so it doesn’t matter.” Plath lies on the bed next to me and props his head on his hand as he looks at me.

“If they were to get me again, what would they do to me?”

He slides his free hand over the sheets until it finds mine. He trails his fingers over the palm of my hand then up my arm and back down again.

“They would keep you in lockdown, find some guy to get you pregnant, and once the baby was born, they would kill you and your gift, or as you call it, curse, would be passed on to your child. They would raise the child to believe that it is his or her sole purpose to live so the Sphere lives.”

“I will never have kids.”

He smiles as he draws designs with his fingertip on my hand.

“You could if you could keep them safe.”

I cut my eyes at him. “I will never have kids,” I repeat.

He laughs. “Okay, you will never have kids.”

“And what happens if the Sphere is destroyed?”

His finger stops, and he holds my hand. He looks at me and blinks a few times. “Then Dwellers live on Earth and become normal people, no longer surrounded by the walls of the Sphere. That’s all the Dwellers really are. People. The Sphere was really only meant for those with abilities to keep them safe and hidden from the world. But generations ago, one of your ancestors saw himself as a god. He created the Constable and knew he couldn’t rule people with abilities, so he found them all and housed them, making them fall for the lies that they were meant to do his dirty work. He literally created his own world and not just the walls around it. Those without abilities were allowed in but only because it would create a small world that the Constable could rule. Power hungry assholes using what was supposed to be a safe haven for Dwellers with abilities so they weren’t viewed as a freak show… It’s sick what a little bit of satisfaction from control can spiral into. ”

“So, you’re sure that if the Sphere were to be destroyed all of this could end?”

He nods. “Positive.” His expression changes to fear. “Orion, no. Absolutely not!”

I furrow my eyebrows. “What?”

Then it dawns on me what he’s thinking. I die so the Sphere dies, and everyone is set free. The Constable, everything they created, will be gone. They won’t be able to stop people from leaving. I stand up and run shaky hands through my hair. I cover my mouth as I process this. A few tears fall down my cheeks, and I look at Plath.

He stands up and walks over to me. “I won’t let you. And you can’t kill yourself. Because of your gift,” I cut my eyes at him, “I mean your curse, it’s impossible to kill yourself. The worst a suicide attempt would do is cause you to become weak, and your ‘curse’ would heal you. You could come close to death, but your heart would never stop beating. For you to actually die, someone who holds the power to kill you would have to be the one to end your life. Why am I even explaining this to you? It doesn’t matter, because it won’t happen.”

“I could die by accident. I could stand in front of a moving vehicle or drown.” My mind becomes consumed with all of the possible ways to die.

“That would be suicide since you purposefully threw yourself in front of a car.” He runs his hands over his face in frustration. “Orion, drop it.”

“Tell me who has the power to kill me! Maybe I could talk-”

“No! That won’t be happening either! You dying is not an option! How many times do I have to say drop it for you to shut the hell up about it?”

I sigh and sit back down on the bed. “Would they have really killed me when they gave me the option of death or to become one of them the day you handed me over?” I remember that day so vividly. I remember Plath telling me I should’ve chosen death.

“No. It was part of the plan.”

“You turned me over to them! You told me you had no choice because otherwise we would have both been dead! You lied!” He reaches for me, and I back away. “When will you stop lying to me!” I scream.

He runs his hands over his face in frustration and balls his hands into fists. “I couldn’t tell you the truth!”

“Why!” I demand. I stand up again and push his chest over and over and over. “Why? Dammit, Plath! Please tell me why!”

“Orion-”

“You told me you were programmed or some shit that kept you from telling me certain things. Truth or not?”

“Not.”

“I hate you!”

“What would you have done if I told you, Orion? You would have done the same shit that you are doing now! You would have said you wanted to die, and I refused to let that happen! I was scared I would lose you because truth is I’d do anything for you, and if death is what you wanted, I would’ve given it to you!”

“Then kill me now!” I grab the front of his shirt as I beg.

“No!” He shoves me away.

My back slams into the wall, and I scream out in pain. I slide to the floor and cry.

“Why? It’s what I want. It’s what’s best! You know I’m right!”

“Because,” he whispers. I look up at him as he kneels down in front of me. “Because I love you, and because of that I’m being selfish. I won’t lose you.”

“Y-you what?” I stutter.

He stares at me but doesn’t say a word. Next thing I know he’s standing and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.