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A/N Short one.. Sort of a filler? Sort off.. Well, okay, again reviews are loved and adored. Thank you and Enjoy…
Normal's The Watchword. Or Is It?
Brooklyn Cooper pushed the heavy large oak door and it creaked open to welcome her and she found a deserted hallway ahead.
"Hello?" she called as loudly as her tired throat could call out.
No reply.
Hesitantly, she ventured into the large mansion, venturing into unknown grounds, unsure of exactly what to do where to head.
She'd driven for half a day before she got busted and she trekked for the rest of the day, headed for this place, now that she was here, it didn't seem like such a smart idea. What exactly was she going to tell these people? What was she going to do? How exactly was she going to avoid him? Was he still here even?
The questions buzzed around her tired mind. She tried to reason with herself that it was the right thing to do, her mother wanted the cure, and she wanted her to take the cure too, if she went back, there was no question that she'd use tears and emotional blackmail to ensure Brooke would get herself shot up with the acclaimed 'cure', her grandparents on the other hand would have used brute force to ensure she got this 'cure', this option, the third, was by far, the safest.
As she walked deeper into the mansion, she found the place to be massive, when she first entered there seemed to be a general living room to her right with a large welcoming sofa set and another amenities, but reaching the end of the corridor, she saw a large winding staircase dominating the west side of the room, another corridor and above, a high beamed ceiling and a small portion of a second floor could be seen. As she looked upward and about, amazed by the beauty and the pieces of art hanging carelessly but tastefully around and the architecture of the old old house, she didn't notice 2 young males coming closer from behind her tossing a football back and forth, laughing, they had hardly noticed her either.
Their footsteps and voices finally informed her of their presence and she turned around just in time to see the oval ball pelting towards her. However she noticed it coming at her just in time and it halted in mid air just inches before her face and it dropped right to her hands before she lifted it and tossed it weakly back to one of them, the larger, bulkier one, he said a curt thanks and left via the corridor to the left, the other male with the dirty blonde hair however, did not.
"Hi," she greeted him awkwardly, wondering why he didn't leave with his friend.
"You're new," he stated more than asked.
With the whole announcement of the cure earlier that day, things did still go on as per usual, as normally as it could be and this, this was a new face, it caught his attention, and he most certainly was curious.
"I'm Bobby," he introduced himself.
"Brooklyn Cooper," she offered automatically yet uncomfortably, she was tired and she didn't know a lot about the place or its inhabitants. He studied this new face who identified herself Brooklyn Cooper and she in turn studied this person in front of her, taking in his casual outfit and how he seemed at ease and comfortable with the surrounding.
Brooklyn felt another wave of dizziness or what she thought was a wave of dizziness, she had been trekking her way along roads and sidewalks for almost a day after abandoning her car, she hadn't had much water, she made minimal stops and refused to hitchhike. The sun had seared even though winter was upon them and she thought the waves of dizziness was probably fatigue coupled with dehydration and shrugged it off.
"I'm.. uh.. I.." she stuttered, stumbling over words, her voice feeble and strained. She stopped for a moment, shaking her head and blinking as though there was something in her eyes. What she was doing was trying to shake off another wave of dizziness.
Bobby simply stared at her, eyes sweeping over her taking in all of her appearance, her blonde hair with the purple streak was damp with what he assumed to be sweat, her ashen complexion that seemed drained and exhausted, the piercing amethyst eyes, all the way down to her scuffed up purple sneakers. She looked tired as though she hadn't slept in days and the bag she had with her bulged, the strap cutting into her shoulders.
A runaway? He contemplated.
She opened her mouth to say something again, but she barely got the first word out when her voice trailed off as her eyes slid close, giving in to fatigue and her body went limp. Everything went black and she fell forward clumsily at the boy, passing out as he caught her in his arms.