Chapter 2

The color white is supposed to symbolize purity, cleanliness, and safety. Hospitals are white, supposedly to soothe patients. I find that stupid.

The color white is boring, and if you wake up, not knowing what on earth happened, the color white can scare you. And that is what happened to me.

I woke up, my eyes adjusting from the blackness of unconsciousness to the pure white of a hospital ceiling. That scared me. My breath went rapid, I thrashed around, got up and looked at my hands; they were bruised and swollen. I wasn't sure what happened.

"Cel, you're awake," A voice said softly. I turned my head, a bit too much, because then a shooting pain went through my neck. "Hey, don't move."

Dawson came up to me, and touched my face. "You made us really scared Celeste, you just disappeared," He told me, sitting down on the chair next to my bed. I got a chance to look around my room. It was a private room, just plain, no TV or anything. It was an intensive care room. I remember what they look like from the hospital drama shows I used to watch.

I tried to speak, but once again, my voice was lost. I tried to sound out a word, but it just came out as breath. Dawson looked at me, wondering, waiting for me to speak.

"Oh, here," He turned around quickly and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the table. "The doctors said you might not be able to talk, because of the... trauma, so they gave you this," He handed them to me, and I began writing.

Where are my parents? I asked him, writing in my calligraphy-like script.

He scratched the back of his head. "They are out in the waiting room, they said they didn't want to come in unless you were awake, they… are really scared," Dawson told me. I nodded, and felt my face, my fingers running over rough skin. My eyes went wide…

"What happened to my face?" I actually spoke, but my voice was a bit raspy, and was more like a whisper. Dawson looked at me and smiled.

"You have a few scabs on the side of your face, and that's it. It could have been worse, and you still look beautiful," He touched my chin slightly. I smiled, and his eyes looked at me softly.

"Celeste?" My mother called from outside my room. Dawson looked over and called my mom in. Both of my parents came in, my father as emotionless as a stone, and my mother, who had been crying ever since she learned what had happened. "Oh no, honey," My mom came rushing at me, wrapping her arms around me. I winced, because of the bruises, but I hugged her back. My dad just stood at the doorway, his face unreadable. Dawson looked at me, smiled, and left.

My mom took my shoulders lightly, almost afraid t touch me, afraid to shatter what was left of me. "Honey, please tell me your okay," She hoped. I nodded.

"Yeah, I am okay, just…" I trailed off, one reason is because I didn't know what to say, the other was that my throat hurt, really bad.

"We are just happy that you are here, and not…gone," Mom's eyes got watery with tears. "The doctor said that you should be able to go home after the tests are done, and that you only need to do one or two sessions of therapy. It could have been a lot worse."

I nodded, and she took my hand, kissed it, and set it back down very gently. "We got to go, they are going to do some more tests, but I will see you by lunch, and if you want, I can bring you Indian food, I know you love that," She told me. I hugged her, as tight as I could, because I knew she hated Indian food.

After she got up and left, the doctor came in, his name was Dr. Franz. He explained to me what the test was about, how they just needed to do a simple physical, and since they had caught 'Kevin', that was the extent of it.

I glanced at the clock, and it was six thirty in the morning, and the sun was just coming up. It was close to five hours ago when it all happened, and it seemed just so surreal, like a nightmare, or a horror movie.

...

My first therapy appointment was tomorrow, and I just wanted to sleep. I was exhausted, but each time I tried to sleep, it was impossible, I just saw him.

The news was all over my attack, there were pictures of the scene, the club had been shut down for a while, the doctor, Dawson's father, and several other people were interviewed. I could turn on the TV with out hearing something about what happened.

The clock in the kitchen rung as it struck the seven. The sun was down, and the news had just started, and of course, the opening headline was the mutant attack.

Grabbing the remote, I turned the TV off as fast as I could. I rubbed my head, brushing my hair out of my face with my fingers and securing it with my headband. Mom had to go to work, she was a swimming coach at the university, and Dad was out on business. I was alone, and it freaked me out worse than I thought.

The cartons of Indian food sat on the coffee table, with all of the cards and other crap the few people gave to me, those who found out what happened. The news probably released my name, because as soon as the Five O'clock News finished, lots of cards came to my door.

The house was silent, the food was cold, and I was alone. Well, except for Kirk, our tabby kitten, who was curled in a ball at the end of the couch.

The door rung, and I got up slowly, my baby blue mesh boy shorts brushing against my knees. I hoped it wasn't another reporter, or another person come to give their comfort.

I looked through the peephole in out door, and smiled when I saw who it was. I opened the door and looked right into Dawson's eyes.

"Hey, Cel," He smiled. I blushed, but it didn't show underneath the yellow bruising on my cheekbones. Normally I would be very angry if anyone showed up, I was embarrassed of my appearance, a disheveled victim look didn't fit my style. Dawson was the exception. I really didn't care if he came around.

"Hey, come on in," I gestured, opening up the door wider. Dawson came in, a plastic bag in tow.

"I brought you some ice cream," he pointed to the bag. "Mint Chocolate chip, I know that is your favorite. Also, I thought you could use some company, so I canceled my plans for tonight, and am free to entertain you," He bowed. I smiled, tears pushing against my eye lids. He was so sweet.

I went up, and hugged him, he gently drew his arms around me, almost not even touching me. "Thank you," I told him.

You're welcome, Something whispered in my head. I quickly looked up at him. The voice was soft and feminine, not like him at all.

"Something wrong?" He asked me, concerned. I shook my head .

"No, lets just watch a movie," I nodded it off. The voice in my head was gone, but it scared me a bit.

We ended up watching the really old Pink Panther movies, and I laughed so hard, my stomach ached. It was late, I ended up falling half asleep on the couch. Dawson brought me up to my room, and said he would stay in the house, down in the kitchen, until one of my parents came home.

I didn't dream that night. It seemed like a second of sleep before I woke up to the sun beaming through my window. The yellow curtains were drawn back, letting in more light than I wanted. It felt like any other day. I got up and smiled, it was Sunday, and a beautiful day at that.