Chapter 2

Pandora woke up. She only planned to rest for two minutes before one whole night passed. At first the sight of a teenage boy lying on her bed startled her again as usual. She was still not used to it even after four days.

She silently studied the boy again, he looked fifteen. He had high structured cheekbones and long dark hair. He might have once looked pleasant, but now he was pale and unhealthy. Well, Pandora hoped she helped with the situation.

Pandora stretched herself and left the room for the boy to rest. She closed the door and leaned against the door and sighed heavily. She tried to arrange the facts again.

Barely one week had past when she heard the screams, had the nightmares. Shortly later four days ago, she found the boy lying unconscious on her bedroom floor. His face was screwed in pain and he was writhing in agony. The boy's shirt was torn and there was an ugly red slash on his chest. Pandora did the only thing she could; she consulted the box and tried to treat the boy's wounds. She had barely slept in those four days and couldn't have slept since the boy occupied her only bed.

There was a creak and Pandora knew he must have woken up. Shit, what is she going to say? "Oh hey you've been sleeping on my bed for four days unconscious." She heard a soft moan coming from there and swept her thoughts away. Biting her lips, she burst into the room.

Scott suffered a minor heart attack when the door burst opened and a girl about his age stumbled in without so much as a footstep or a knock as warning. She had bright ginger hair that waved at her shoulders. Her eyes were wide with concern and curiosity. She was probably studying him as much as he was studying her. There was an awkward silence.

"Hey you alright? Erm… you shouldn't really try to stand up, just… sit there…" the girl blushed at her failed attempt to break the awkward silence, making everything even more awkward.

She advanced forward but Scott drew himself back protectively almost immediately out of forced habits. After what he had been through, he had hated physical contact entirely. Hurt briefly flashed in the girl's eyes but Scott did not care. She stopped and bit her lips into a nervous smile. Scott did not trust her. He was too tired to use his power, and seriously out of practice.

He glared at her hostilely and scrunched away from the girl. The girl furrowed her brows and looked offended briefly before turning away to avoid his challenging gaze. She offered to get him some water before hastily leaving.

Scott was left in the room alone again and took the chance to actually study the room properly. The room was not too big or too small and it had four walls. Four beautiful walls. They had a beautiful shade of turquoise, green and white all mixed together. It had produced a stunning effect, as though entering a luring hole that never ended. There was a wooden table and a closet in the room, and that was about it. A very simple but relaxing room, Scott concluded.

He was sitting on a bed with his back leaning against the wall. He felt stronger and the pain on his chest wound did not feel that intense. His head was still throbbing and he remembered with dread that there were probably dirty drugs swimming inside his head now.

The pain shot through his body again. That familiar pain, electricity. He could barely breathe, his head screamed and he was back there again, with straps and tubes. Uncontrollably, his eyes filled with tears. The woman, Susan Mortblake, laughed sweetly and adjusted the dentist light right over his eyes and blinded him. He wanted to die, for he knew what was coming next. Pain.

。。。

Scott sucked in his breath, squeezed his eyes, and prepared for the worst. His muscles tensed and fear gripped him. But nothing came. Something or someone grabbed his shoulders and shook him gently.

"Hey! Hey, are you alright? Can you hear me? HEY!" Scott gasped and sprang his eyes open. He was back to the strange room again. Despite being confused and intimidated, he could not help but feel a sense of relieve wash over. The girl was still shaking him slightly before abruptly stopping. She propped Scott against the bed as he panted heavily. Somehow, Scott must have fall from the bed. There was sheen of cold sweat covering his face. The girl offered him a cup of water, Scott gulped it down immediately.

The girl was studying him with concern and worry. Scott was still shivering from what he had just seen. He had barely recovered and his heart continued hammering his chest. His breath was fast and labored. The memories flooded all back, all the worst ones. Scott had to fight the tears away. They were tears of rage. Rage at how unfair the world is, how bloody cruel fate is. Why him? Why not everyone else in the world? He would not cry in front of a girl who thinks she is babysitting a poor injured boy. Hatred for the world, even the girl, started pouring into his heart, forming an ugly black scar.

"Erm… are you OK? Do you want me to get you anything? Er… I don't know… Painkillers…" Scott winced at the word and the girl quickly realized her mistake. "No, I mean food. You must be really hungry. You haven't eaten for four days!"

Scott nodded hastily. Anything to make her leave him alone. Again, the look in the girl's eyes told him that she had somehow guessed his message. She stood up and left the room, her brows knitted.

Scott did not feel guilty, just tired. Really tired of everything, everything that took away even the little bit of his faith in humanity. There was no trust, only hatred. He dropped his head back onto the bed and thought of the one thing that mattered to his life. Jamie. They would probably never see each other again. A thought struck him, maybe not.

Since, he had somehow managed to get out of Silent Creek (he seriously hope what he saw just now was just a dream and not this), maybe he could first ask for an explanation from the weird girl then he would set out to find Jamie, no matter how impossible the task may seem.

If he was caught by the bastards that tortured him again, then he would be ready. He had sworn to himself a million times to take his own life rather than be captured and reduce to an animal by them again.

Caught up in his own thoughts, he had not realized how time had passed. His head was still ringing but he felt physically more rest and he attempted to stand up. He used to bed to support himself and staggered; his leg muscles were stiff and numb. Grinding his teeth, he tried a few steps before he finally remembered and managed a feeble attempt to walk normally.

He stumbled to the door and grabbed the doorknob for support again. After his muscles had finished screaming, he twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door.