The first thing my body registers is the pain. Pain so intense that my body is practically numb with it. All I can feel is the hard, cold concrete beneath me and the pain, oh the pain. Don't be a pansycake Tris, my sub-conscience screams at me to ignore the overwhelming waves of agony radiating across my body from my neck and sit up but I can't. Come on Tris, at least open your eyes. I take a deep breath and will my eyes open to see black spots invading my vision causing the room to spin so fast I squeeze my eyes shut again. What is going on, where am I? Swallowing down the bile, I open my eyes again slower to see a blurred room. The lab? It's difficult to see from this angle, slumped against the wall. So sit up then you idiot. I press my palms into the ground and gently push myself up only to experience a fresh new wave of pain causing me to cry out. What happened? I try to recall the last solid memory I have.
Caleb. My hands around a gun pointed at his head, security guards hands around guns pointed at my head. A room where thick, clouds of flames escaped from. David. A green button. And then the pain. My mum. I suck in a sharp breath. Mum. I saw her. She reached out for me, her arms warm and loving and I could have sworn I stepped into her embrace. Where had she gone? I blink rapidly until the black spots and the threat of tears fades. The room clears into focus and I see a large figure staring at me from a wheelchair. David. Looking just as confused as me.
"You are bleeding." A statement made by the man who shot me. If I could stand, my fingers would be wrapped around his neck but I can't so instead I grit my teeth and glare. I am bleeding. I gingerly raise one hand and press it against the side of my neck, my fingers coming away covered in fresh blood. "Not there." I glance up at David to see his eyes fixed on my lower abdomen where strangely, I feel nothing. I look down to see a bloody mess of flesh and ripped clothing. No wonder it hurt when I tried to sit up. I study the wound before deciding it's not severe enough to keep me from leaving this lab room and the man who almost killed me. Even if he can't remember pulling the trigger. Twice.
I slide slowly back so I am resting against the counter and drag my feet in towards my chest, ignoring the intense ache. "What are you doing?" David blinks blindly at me. I growl in reply, raising my left arm upwards to grip the edge of the countertop. Past stage one. I dig my fingers in and pull, heaving my battered body off of the floor to lean against the counter. My eyes begin to water from the effort and pain of stage two. "Where are we?" David gazes around the room, his eyes growing wide when he spots the stray gun and spots of blood that dot the floor. His dazed eyes move back to me, "Who are you?" My fingers start to shake with anger as I watch the man who threating to destroy my home, who dared to try to hurt my friends look at me with complete blindness. How dare he.
My head begins to feel very light, probably because of the amount of blood I am loosing so I press one hand into the wound on my side, blocking the flow. The pain in my neck is still throbbing strong but I decide that is the least of my worries. Time to leave. I am hunched over, cradling my weak body inwards as I stumble towards the door. Stage three. "Where are you going?" David's voice is full of fear, fear of not knowing who he is or who he was. I ignore him, heading straight for the exit.
"Please."
As my hands reach the double doors, I have to lean my shoulder heavily against them, exhausted from the effort of moving across the room.
"PLEASE." David's scream echoes around the lab, reflecting the frenzy in his eyes. He sits in his chair, hands fumbling over the wheels as he desperately tries to reach the doors. How dare he. My eyes drift away from the weak man who begs for help, to the table by the door where a stray gun rests. I can hear David moving, his chair rattling as he pushes himself up. "Help me, I can't move my leg." His voice sounds distant as I reach for the gun with my free hand, feeling the familiar cold metal in my grasp. "What are you doing?" His voice catches at the end, allowing me to see the vulnerable man who hides underneath. Scared of a single girl with a weapon. Scared of a city that fought for freedom.
I turn, my arm shaking with the weight of the gun.
David panics, seeing the barrel pointed at his face he squirms. Wriggling helplessly in his chair, clawing at the arm rests. Scared of having no power. "Please no, no, no, no." Tears stream down his cheeks. "I DON'T KNOW WHO I AM." Desperate cry's rebound around the room, desperate cry's from a desperate man. He falls forward, calling out as he crashes onto the concrete. His eyes search mine, grasping for some recognition of my face. Begging me to end his nightmare. Scared of the unknown.
"Help me… Please." His voice barely a whisper.
My fingers curl around the trigger.
"Be brave David."
And I drop the gun, my shoulder heaving my body through the double doors, leaving the ghost of David trapped in the room behind me.