A/N: So this is my first attempt at a Fan Fiction, so please be nice ^^
/Odango-Sara
BPOV
I woke up by a throbbing in my back head, I slowly opened my eyes but I didn't se anything. Everything was black. Where am I?
I tried to remember what had happened, and how I ended up here. But the pain in my back head just kept getting worse. I started to smell the blood, rust and salt. I felt the nausea come over me and I closed my eyes and tried to breathe evenly. But I shouldn't have done that, because the moment I closed my eyes I saw his face.
The face of a man I believed to be dead, how could it be? He's dead. I thought I was going crazy, He's dead. Edward sad so himself, and why would he lie about something like that?
"He's dead, he's dead." I started to mumble to myself over and over again. I don't know why, but a stupid and childish part of me thought that it would come true if I kept repeating it.
"Who's dead?" I knew that voice, why did I know that voice? It was really deep husky. Okay if I were crazy before, now I'm completely mental, I thought I were going to scream because I couldn't put a face or a name to the voice.
The man took a step forward, and I saw his silhouette. He was really muscular, almost as big as Emmett. But I still couldn't remember who it was.
"Who's dead?" He repeated, he started to sound really impatient. I held my mouth shut, I didn't want to answer him. I didn't even know who he was; I didn't even know how he looked like. Doesn't kidnappers usually show them shelf for there hostages?
All of a sudden I felt someone smash my head in the wall I sat against. I let out a whimper of pain, and I smelled the fresh blood. I started to get queasy.
"Mmm… I forgot how good you smelled." Okay now I was terrified. "I won't repeat myself again" the man sad, this time he didn't sound impatient, but he sounded mad. "Who's dead?"
"James" As I said his name I was brought back to that night almost year ago in Phoenix. I had really tried to hide it to Edward that I still got nightmares from that night, but I knew that he knew because of my tendency to talk in my sleep. But that didn't keep me from trying to not talk about it with him. I didn't want him to worrying about me, more than he already did.
Even my year of trying to forget about it, I still got the chills from just hearing his name. And I soon felt the tears running from my face, why am I crying? And why am I doing it in front of a stranger?
"What about James?" He asked.
When he sad his name out loud it made the memories come back. And fast, everything just went black. And all I could hear was his voice, a voice I remembered all to well.
It took all my courage to open my mouth so that I could speak too him "Who are you?" I really wanted the answer, but I was also terrified at knowing it.
"I don't think you want to know that." he sounded sincere, but that only made me think that I actually was right. And I didn't want to, but I needed to know. Even if I knew it would make everything worse.
"Yes, please show yourself." I knew my voice was uneven, but I really needed to know. And I needed to know now.
He started to move forward, and the queasiness I felt before multiplied now, if not tripled. I closed my eyes for a second and when I opened them I saw him. The face of the man I tried to forget about.
"James."