I dreamed of being at home. In the warm fuzzy living room. Singing with my Father, and laughing with my younger brother. His long black hair always getting in his eyes. The same with my Father. We all laughed rich and full. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, and I was standing outside in the cold. I looked ahead of me and saw my home on fire. The large two story building in flames. I screamed, screamed for all I was worth. I knew there was nothing I could do. And as tears flew down my beaten cheeks, I watched my family die. I watched my life die. I watched my freedom, and my happiness die. I laid down in the snow and hid away from my life. I listened to the cracking of the fire behind me, and I sang. This time it was soft, lonely, anguished, and sad. I curled up in the thick snow, and let the fresh drops cover me. Maybe I'd dissapear. Maybe I'd freeze to death, actually, now that I thought about it, it was freezing. Not like in my dream, literally. It was. . .so cold. I buried my arms within myself. Trying to get warm. But to no avail, I shook violently. Maybe I'd die; that wouldn't be so bad. But voices were talking to me, trying to wake me up. I whispered 'Go away.' Why won't anyone just leave me alone? Is it really that difficult? Someone was shaking me. But my arms were numb, and I couldn't feel anything. I opened my eyes to a shining, brilliant light. And there was laughter singing from its depths. I opened my eyes wider. It was bright, illuminating this wary black scene. Soft cinnemon radiated from it, and I felt warmth on my face. So much laughter, and singing. I got up, and walked shakily to the light, wobbly. I knew there was no way to stand on my own, but I wasn't doing it on my own. Someone was calling to me, and picking me up. I smiled, closing my eyes. 'I must be dead.' I thought warily. Someone called out to me, and I turned slowly around. I saw my Father. My heart stopped, he was standing inside the on fire doorway. I smiled. "Daddy!" I yelled out, running to him. I clasped my arms around him, smiling and giggling. "Daddy! I can't believe you're alive!" He smiled down at me, but the smile quickly faded. And something else spread across him. His mouth started eroding in flesh. It dropped to the ground burning. His arms did the same, except I couldn't feel it, because I was so dreadfully cold. "Daddy?" I whispered quietly.
I bolt up in bed. Looking around. There was the same man there earlier. Except. . .I felt miserable. Emotionally, of course, but my body felt horrible. I laid back, my head swirling. "Oh God." I whispered, I felt like I was going to throw up. But this time, I wasn't cold at all. I was hot, and sweating. I shook my head, trying to get the feeling to get away from me. The bed indented, but I couldn't open my eyes. They were. . .so heavy. "Rest, you are ill. You must stay back." I shook my head, but something was injected into me. A needle? Yes, a needle. But I just, I just couldn't open my eyes! My thoughts clouded, and my mind finally told me to be quiet. And I slank back, and the only thing running through me was unconciousness and my own miserable body.
I awoke again, this time feeling better. Not good, not good at all. But leaps and bounds better than I did the first time I woke up. I looked around, throwing the scratchy blanket off of me. The room was small, the one window, barred. I didn't want to panick, but I did. I jumped off the bed, only succeeding in falling to the cold floor. The room was small, and there was no where to go. And the only thing I had one was my bra and undies. I didn't care. I wanted out of this room. I shot up, going to the windows. I looked to the low ceiling. Finding one air vent. Except it was small, my brother probably wouldn't even be able to squeeze through. I closed my eyes to that image. I mentally shook myself. I could still try. I jumped onto the bed. Ignoring the violent wave that shot through me. Something was wrong with my body, but I didn't care enough to check. Foolish, but true. The bed was low, and by standing on it, I was 2 feet from it. I growled, I could manage it. I jumped once, not enough. Twice, a little more. And finally, I grasped onto the small metal airway. I hung in the air, yanking at it. I fell to my knees on the bed. But the little metal clasp was in my hand. I smiled, oh yeah, I was good. I jumped twice again. It was just enough. I clung to the edge of the ceiling. I worked out often, I may have been short, and small. But I was quick on my feet and strong. I lifted myself, moaning from the intense pain that shot through my head. There was no way I could fit through this. But I did get a glimpse in the ceiling. I could get out of here. I told myself this repeatedly. Until arms clasped around my waiste, pulling me down. I squeeled. Shaking from the man's hold. "Lemme go!" I yelled. He held me to his back, so I couldn't see him. I twist and wiggled in his grip, but there was no way I was getting out of it. The pain in my head was screaming. My mind wavered, and my body faultered for a moment. I almost couldn't breath. The person was just holding me, waiting for me to calm down. I tried to fight, but something was wrong with my head. Quicker than I even started beating on him, it ended just as fast. He held on tightly. I closed my eyes, my head leaning back to lay againt his hard chest. My breathing was shaky. I opened my eyes to the same man as earlier, his dark black brown eyes looking at me bored. "Okay." I whispered. My body just wasn't having any of it. He stepped off the bed, wiping the dirt away with one hand, laying me down with the other. He turned to leave. I called out shakily. "Don't." I whispered it, but he heard. He didn't turn around, but he did stop. "Am I at the home?" I managed to say. A shook of his head told me no.
"Where am I?" He didn't say anything. I lifted up, glaring at him. I would go down with a fight, I breathed for a few moments, staring at his back. I wished it would set on fire. I raised up grasping onto the bars of the small bed. He turned around. His brown hair looking as if it were floating around his head. He was handsome, very. Tall, maybe in his middle 20's. He had a little stubble around his chin and cheeks. But. . .the kind of stubble like the models in magazines, like they were purposely made to look that way. I raised my fists in front of my face. I shook for a moment, positive I was about to fall, but I didn't. I stood. "I repeat, where-am-I." I said this shakily, as if each word were causing me to want to just, throw up more. He stood, looking over and down at me. He stepped forward, I squeezed my sweating fists tightly. Balling them up. I could manage at least one hit, at least just one.
"You are far from home." He stated simply. Stepping forward. "You should not be awake right now. How is that possible." He asked lazily. The man looked bored. I rolled my eyes at him. I was taught with respect, but I wouldn't give it to people who didn't deserve it. Especially kidnappers. I smiled, raising my middle finger at him, my other fist still protectively in fron of my face. But only in vain. My eyes cloud over, but this time, I shook myself physically. My black hair was half wet half dry. Some sticking to my face from sweat, the rest hanging to my stomach. Straight as a board, but it just made me feel ten times hotter. I couldn't take it any more. I wavered, sliding back on my heel, falling backwards. But hands caught me, setting me down easily. "Screw you." I whispered, my eyes starting to close. I was getting really freaking tired of going unconciouse. Again, something was injected into me. And I couldn't say anything. My mind and body went into autopilot.
A/N: Sorry this is so short ya'll. It's my lunch break and I rushed the last paragraph. But I'll be back and write a better one. Promise , love love love. Oh btw - I'll be your best friend if you rate. wink wink
