TW: Specific mention of death.


Beca makes her way out of bed and starts by cleaning herself up. She changes her shirt again and stuffs the old one down her bag. After she's dressed, she figures it's a good thing to hide the weapons on her body again. The tool goes into the side of her shoe like before, just because there is literally no other place to hide it. And she wears the wooden stick on the front of her body now, as it's easier to get ahold of it that way. Just where her abdomen meet her right thigh, covered by her pants and her t-shirt. It's actually more comfortable than yesterday when she wore it on her back, because every time she sat down or moved up, the item poked out of her shirt a bit, which is why she had to keep her spine completely straight the entire time.

She goes through her bag for the millionth time. Her spare set of pants is on the bottom with all the food and water bottles on top of that, and her shirts above. She throws it over her shoulder and immediately feels how heavy it is on her body. The bag of rice is probably to blame for that, but she'd figured as much.

She won't take it out, though. They're supposed to just come back here tonight, so she could try and hide it in her room, if only she believed the people here. Maybe it's just Beca's trust issues again, but the simple fact that the elite woman did not tell her anything about this day in her interview, gives Beca the feeling that her gut is right about all of this.

She puts on her leather jacket as she wonders if she's being sent someplace else than the rest of the group. According to what Chloe's told her, they are all going somewhere else, so Beca wouldn't really know. But they're probably all going to the dead land; it would be obvious if you weren't in the dead land, Beca assumes.

As her mind's racing again, Beca decides it's probably best to stay as close to the point she'll be dropped off by the Officials later today. That seems like the best thing to do, because they probably won't go looking for her if she isn't there six hours later.

Beca is pretty good at keeping track of time. There's a big clock in The Factory and ever since she's started to work there, the ticking of every second passed has worked pretty calming for her. Unknowingly, she started to count them along with the ticking sound, and that went on as she made her way home. In her head, she's always ticking along with the big clock in The Factory. Even when she's not there.

Beca thinks she even does it in her sleep, because somehow she always awakes before the alarming systems that are built in all the bunkers go off. It's a light ringing through the house to alarm you it's six thirty. It only goes off once, for fourteen seconds. If it doesn't wake you up and you're late for work, you'll have missed a day of getting nutrition for your family. You are only allowed to miss so many days. Beca doesn't know how many days are too much; she's never seen anyone who has been fired for not being in on time.


When the Officials come to get them, Chloe and Beca are both set; jackets on and their bags hanging off of their shoulders. The two men walk upfront through the hallway and the girls follow until they reach the tiny cabinet again that takes them up and down the big bunker. Beca's being stopped by one man and Chloe gets pushed inside by the other. Beca doesn't fight this. She knows they have to go separately.

"I'll see you tonight." Chloe says with a small smile, which is still beautiful, but painful at the same time. Beca returns this by pressing her lips together. It's not even a smile, but it's the best she's got, because this feels like a goodbye. It feels like what Beca figures it would've felt like if she told Chloe she wasn't going to come back to school anymore, but instead was going to work to support the family.

It feels like she's never going to see Chloe Beale again.

The girl disappears when the doors close and when they open again, it's Beca's turn. The Official goes in first and she takes after him. Twenty-one seconds she's in there and then she's in a similar place she was in Second the day she left. Only here there are multiple hovercrafts, but it's basically the same. Beca can see a tunnel which is probably how they'll exit the bunker undergrounds.

The Official tells Beca to hurry, and since she doesn't see Chloe here, she guesses the next Chosen is right after her. She figures there's no reason in her rebelling right now, so she follows the man into the hovercraft and sits down on the floor. It feels like it's made of plastic and Beca runs her fingers over the engraved round circles in them. She guesses they are there for support, or grip. Doesn't know why else the entire flooring in the transportation vehicle would have these round prints on them.

She lies herself down when she hears the engine start and the craft moves underneath her body. She looks up into darkness with her hands folded under her skull to keep her head off the ground. She thinks of home. Simple things, like getting up to go to work and how the entire bunker would be quiet. She'd check up on the boys, who were always sound asleep, before she'd tiptoe her way out of the house. And she liked that bike ride to work, because it was just her and her thoughts. That moment was hers, every day. And she missed that today.

The Official exits the control cabin and Beca quickly puts her right hand over the wooden stick that's halfway down her pants. She reckons it's better to be save about this, because although you can't see the weapon through her shirt, she's not in for taking chances. Not on this. But luckily the man doesn't even give her a second look and passes her to stand in the back.


When the darkness in front of Beca's eyes is replaced with a light blue sky with few clouds covering it at places, she moves towards her bag instantly. She takes the shirt she wore yesterday and folds the right end towards the left top and rolls it up. She presses the folded shirt in front of her mouth and ties it up behind her head. When the shirt is wrapped around her skull tightly, Beca readjusts the part in front of her mouth so that it's now in fact also covering the end of her nose and everything below that.

She doesn't know when they'll enter the dead land.

Doesn't know where the transition lies between good and bad, alive and dead; clean air and sickening air.

And although Beca knows the shirt won't be able to cease infected air from entering her lungs, she somehow feels more protected like this. Also, it's the only thing she can do. If the enemy were a person, she could fight it. If it were something in her way, she'd go around it. But you can't go around oxygen. Beca's going to be there for six hours, she will breathe that air.

Maybe she'll know exactly when she's breathed in her last breath, maybe there's a certain smell or taste to the sickening air, and maybe it will kill her right away. Maybe she'll feel her lungs shrink more by the second, and she'll drop to her knees. And her death will be quick, and easy, and calm. No screams, no blood pouring out of her body, no time to think about what she's leaving behind.

But more likely, it won't be an easy death. It will weaken her first as the infection spreads through her system, shutting down her organs one by one as she feels herself dying. And it will be awful, and painful, and dreading. She'll have time to think of everything she's ever done, time to cry over everyone she's done wrong, and everyone she won't ever see again. There'll be enough time for her to gain hope that someone might rescue her, find her in the dead land and save her. She will try to yell, or leave messages in the sand, or dirt, or anything she can find. But that hope will eventually die out, and she'll give up. And even then, she'll have hours to ponder if someone will ever know how she died. Hours that will be filled with dark thoughts and feelings she never shared with anyone. And then, eventually, she'll feel how hard it's starting to get for her heart to pump blood through her veins, and she'll check if she can still move, but her right leg's only twitching uncontrollably, and her fingers don't respond to the signals she's sending them. And she'll die in crucifying pain. As if her body is imploding on itself, and there will be nothing she can do about it.

And if anyone ever finds her body, her mouth will still be open from screaming, with dried up dark blood stains over her lips, and her fists will be clenched like they always would when Beca felt endangered, and her eyelids will still be open, because no one's been around to close them. And maybe they will feel part of the pain she felt in her death just by looking at her corpse.

But they will get over it. Beca knows that no one would really be devastated if she died. Sure, her dad and maybe his wife and the twins would be sad. But they'd move on. There'd be people in Second that would notice her absence, but it wouldn't be more than mentally noted. Beca knows she doesn't have a lot of people in her life that care for her; she herself is to blame for that, really. And she knows she's nothing special. So maybe it would be okay if she died here.

Beca would be okay with dying.


The Official heads back into the control room after some time spent on deck. Beca's eyes follow him and watches as he sits down on one of the plastic chairs and he and the man controlling the vehicle start loudly laughing right away. Beca rolls her eyes and moves to the back of the craft, leaning over the side right next to the spinning fan. It is almost loud enough for her ears to drown out the men's laughter.

She doesn't see or hear any sign of life on the ground beneath her. All she sees are the top of trees, lots of trees. In the far distance, not behind them but on the left side of where they're flying, the trees end and some sort of open area lies there. Beca believes the trees look kind of healthy, which means there must be a water source nearby. From there on out, Beca tries to remember every little thing she sees that might help her. She reckons they have spent around an hour and a half in the craft, so they could be close to the drop off.

Beca actually sees a lot of open spaces in the far distance, now that she's paying attention to it. They're probably flying over the trees for a reason, so Beca can't see the dead land.

"We're almost here." The Official tells her as he grabs her by the arm. Beca only puts up minimal resistance, the hand is too strong for her to fight off, she can tell by his grip on her. He takes her to the middle of the vehicle, his hand still around her upper arm, but most of the pressure is released. Beca watches how they're lowering in height, the sky changes within the color blue and somewhere in the transition, Beca notices the exact type of Chloe's eyes. Just for a second, it's there. But then clouds take over her view and her old friend's eyes are no longer in the sky.

Then the leaves of trees start to rustle through the wind Beca now feels, her skin shivers at it and she can feel the goosebumps appearing on her arms. She doesn't remember when she took her jacket off during the ride, but she quickly snatches it off her bag that's lying on the floor. The Officials gives her space to put on the jacket and she intends to get her bag up from the floor while she's at it, but just before her hands reach far enough, a single leaf falls on the item.

They have few trees in Second, but she's seen leaves before, it's not supposed to be a big deal. Yet Beca is intrigued. The leaf almost covers her entire right hand and Beca's certain this is the greenest her eyes have ever seen. It's perfectly symmetrical, even the tiniest coves and creeks. It's beautiful, but Beca should've known better than to let her guard down, especially for such a stupid piece of plant.

It's not like she didn't feel the man's hands on her the second they found her hips, but the trigger didn't make it to her brain on time. When she feels her feet lose contact with the floor, she knows what's happening, but her brain is still not sending her limbs signals, because her eyes are still focused on the thing in her hand, and it's like she's paralyzed. But maybe her brain is sending triggers, because Beca knows what she should do. She knows what's going on, and she knows she should resist, or prepare, or do anything rather than making this extremely easy on the Official. And because she knows, her brain is most likely telling her useless body what to do. But the orders don't arrive, don't quite make it to her fingertips and hands. It's like her mind is at a different place than her body, and it's pinging her shell, but the transmit failed, leaving her with an connection error she doesn't understand.

She sees the head of a tree from up close as she feels her feet dragging over the side of the hovercraft. She can almost feel the branches covered with leaves touching her face, but then the man's hands are gone and Beca remembers how someone once told her that the last thought you have in this life is important, as it's all you get to take with you. So she tries to think of something beautiful, maybe a memory with her mom and dad, when the world was still a world, but she's empty. She has zero thoughts as she sees the ground coming closer and closer, yet she doesn't close her eyes.

Closing them seems like a weakness. And she feels like she has to see this, has to see the last few seconds she has on this earth, even if all she sees is grass. Beca thinks of how she's kind of glad her body is paralyzed. She gets to leave this world brave and fearless. There won't be blood or tears or screams, just her numb body. And that would be what she wanted. Wasn't it?

It's almost funny how time stands still in those few seconds she's weightless, because to Beca it feels like she's been freefalling for hours. Maybe someone snapped his fingers and the whole world has paused, because everything is quiet, and peaceful. All the pain inside Beca is left behind in that hovercraft. She hasn't felt this alive in a long time. And it's a damn shame death follows so quickly.

Just before her rather small body impacts the ground, she shuts her eyes close anyway, putting pressure on every muscle she has in her face, and then there's only pain. For a split second, everything hurts, and then it's gone again.


Beca never thought she'd open her eyes again after that fall, but here she is, staring at the tiny blades of grass. She has this annoying ring in her ears that gets louder and louder, almost bringing physical pain to her head. She flips her body so she's lying on her back, but immediately the crucifying pain she felt as she hit the earth is back. She can't even pinpoint what parts of her body are hurting, it's all overwhelming and it takes everything inside her to fight against her mind blacking out. Which is when she feels blood on her forehead.

Not just blood, she wouldn't be surprised of that, but dried up blood. It doesn't even leave stains on her right hand. And when she looks down at her leg, it's already bruised. She searches the sky for the vehicle that took her here. She can't see it anymore and she doesn't hear the engine or the fan. Which can only mean one thing.

She has passed out.

When she hit the ground, she must have. Because blood doesn't dry that fast and legs don't bruise that quick. And since it feels like Beca woke up straight after the fall, she has no idea how long she was out, which means there's no way for her to know when the six hours have passed.

Beca lifts herself up with her right arm, because her left arm hurts too much when she puts pressure on it. While seated, she can see one of her shoes lying about twelve feet away and her bag is another few feet away. They must've thrown that after her, because she can't remember taking it. It takes her a few minutes to adjust to the pain she's feeling, and then she decides to check herself for injuries. She remembers she fell from where there were still leaves, and as she can now see clearly, this tree only has leaves up in the top. Which is approximately twenty-two feet up high. Beca doesn't know if that's enough to kill you, but apparently not.

She starts by lifting her one good leg of her pants, the one that was still fairly whole. Just cuts and bruises, like was already shown on her other leg that had ripped her pants and put part of her knee and shinbone to visibility. She didn't think she'd broken them, because she fell horizontally and not straight on her legs. Although that doesn't say anything, but she can move them and that's enough for her. Next up she checks her torso with her right hand. She doesn't feel any ribs sticking out, so the pain she feels is all inside. She inspects her arms just by looking at them. Her right one is fine, working and barely hurting her. But she still can't move her left arm without feeling like dying. At first, she doesn't see anything in particular, just blood stains and dirt. But from the corner of her left eye, she startles. Her shoulder is way closer to her face than it should be. And she doesn't really need to touch it to feel it's dislocated, but she does anyway.

She shrinks at the touch, and a grinned moan slips between her teeth. She's gotten so used to putting a big face on, she can't help but keep her pain inside even if there's no one around to see her. Which is something she's only just realizing, so she puts her hand back on the dislocated shoulder. She intends on doing it quick, but the pain is bringing her to sweat and she remembers how her dad once told her about that man that bit off his own tongue, because of the extreme pain he was under. That's not something she would like to see happen, so she takes her hand away again, grabbing the wooden stick she made back in Second out of her jeans and pressing it between her teeth. The item is a little bit too big for her mouth, but it's all she's got. Her hand moves again, this time firm and resolute, as if she knows exactly what she's doing.

She doesn't, though. But the pain she feels when her shoulder pops back, lets her know she probably did it right.

She falls to her back, panting and sweating, and she screams. She starts screaming and just doesn't stop. It's not even the pain that's causing her to scream. It's anger. Although pain brings her anger, so in the end, it may still be because of the pain. It's like when she tried to use the bike she made herself for the first time. She fell almost immediately, face first and her limbs following. Now, she really didn't have to mess up the bike as much as she did after her encounter with the ground, but that's how she deals with pain. It angers her, makes her grin her teeth and clench her fists to the point where she literally has to hit something to get rid of the rage inside of her.

Which is probably why she's pounding her fists at the dirty grass right now. Only using her right hand, though, as her left arm lays weak. And she continues to scream and hit until she's drained. Until everything is out of her system. And then she feels only pain.

It's almost funny how Beca had planned what to do and what to look at when she'd arrive in the dead land, thinking she could be in control of whatever happened. Thinking they'd let her be in control. But lying on the grass, bleeding and, what feels like, dying, Beca knows they were never gonna give her a chance.

The shirt she had folded around her face is now lying underneath her pained arm. Beca decides the pain of lifting her arm should be worth it in the end, if it means she won't die of suffocation or some weird lung disease. After moving her left arm up with her right hand and trying to pull out the t-shirt from under her with that same hand, she's too tired to wrap the item around her head, so she just holds it in front of her mouth. Satisfied, she lies down, relaxing every part of her body as she tries to take in the pain. Accept it, embrace it, so it can be her new standard. Beca's always had pain inside, this is no different. She just needs to let it in and get used to it, and then she can go on.

Go on to what, she doesn't know. But getting up from the ground would be the first step she'd take. And after twenty minutes, that's exactly what she does. Lifting her torso up and her knees meeting her chest, she rolls to her, one working, hand and knees. It takes her a few tries, but eventually she's up on her feet.

She's feeling rather dizzy and she can't get her eyes to be brought to focus, so she just stands there in the middle of a field, her body swaying lightly from left to right, winking excessively to try and get her sighting sharp.

What feels like hours passes by while Beca hasn't done anything in the dead land yet. It rises a fire inside of her that gets her moving. Stumbling over to her shoe in the distant, she fixes the shirt in front of her mouth with a knot in it again, so she can use her right hand to put her shoe back on. It takes her a few interferons with the ground, but eventually Beca has regained her shoe and her bag. She takes her weapons and stuffs them down the bag as she wonders whether or not to change her pants. She probably wouldn't even be able to get out of it with only one functioning arm, so she leaves it the way it is.

After another few minutes of doing nothing but rubbing her eyes, Beca finally regains part of her vision. Her head is still hurting like hell and her ears are still ringing, but at least she's able to see again. First only up close; grass, a big field, trees surrounding her every being. But then the fog around clears and she wishes she would be able to see anything beyond trees, but that's literally all there is.

And if she could go back in time right now, she would have never brought that bag of rice with her, because the bag feels like it just contains rocks right now. But she lifts it anyway with a painful sound that slips out of her mouth faster than she was able to suppress. It's a mix of a sigh and a moan, and it reminds her of that time Chloe gave her an unannounced backrub during English class and a similar sound echoed through that school bunker, leaving Beca with a face as red as a tomato, slapping Chloe's hands off of her body and the redhead laughed for the rest of the day.

She wonders if Chloe is okay as she starts to walk into the woods with her bag thrown over her shoulder. Wonders if everyone else got thrown overboard from a good twenty feet as well, or if the man just didn't like her at all. Wonders if the others are even at the same place she is. Wonders if they're all alright. Wonders if they will stay put and wait until the six hours have passed, or if they have started walking like Beca has.

There's not much 'dead' to find in this land, though, Beca realizes the further she goes. The grass they have in Second is mostly just a tad of green and overall brown, bare spots everywhere and it's been walked on so much, everything is just pressed into the ground. But here, the shiny green blades of grass actually stand up to face the sky. The trees stand beautifully tall. And Beca even spots flowers every now and then. She doesn't know what they're called, because when the biology teacher was explaining plants to them, Beca figured she'd never need that information anyway, so instead of finding differences in daisies and dandelions, Beca studied the way Chloe's lip would twitch and her eyes would shrink when she couldn't find the answer, and when she did, how her eyes lit up at the compliment of the teacher and always finding Beca's to share a smile.

She never realized how obsessed she became with Chloe Beale's facial structures, until she couldn't read them anymore.


Beca has been walking in a straight line from the place where she was dropped, but now the trees are forcing her to decide to go left or right. She looks back, still being able to see the big tree that she has marked mentally as hers. It's a good fifty feet away, but closer than Beca thought it would be. The weight on her shoulders and her still hurting limbs are the cause of her believing she walked at least a mile.

She decides it's best to keep moving, but not before she's engraved a big X in a tree, using her, surprisingly, sharp piece of wood. Instead of putting it back in her bag, she keeps it firm in her right hand as she takes the left turn, for no apparent reason.

After walking for a good thirty minutes, Beca can still see the tree she has damaged. Her legs can't carry her body fast enough, her pace is barely anything but one step a minute, and as much as she tries to move her feet faster, they just won't listen. Her legs took quite a hit, as the rest of her body, but they are not severely damaged. So the fact that they won't do what Beca wants them to do, pisses her off. Her head is still spinning and the ringing in her ears had not gotten any less, which also gets on her nerves right now.

She fists her right hand and grins her teeth before hitting the closest tree she can find. Six times. And then she drops down. Blood runs down her hand, but Beca doesn't feel any pain. Adrenaline still rushes through her body, so she doesn't feel anything but that right now.

She sits against the tree, her hand on her hurt shoulder as she thinks of what to do next. Walking tires her too much, brings more pain to her body than if she's seated. And maybe a break wouldn't be a bad thing. She could use some water and she should really check on her injuries again. The grazes on her legs are not even bleeding anymore, so she lets them be. She has a cut on her stomach that she didn't notice earlier, so she cleans that with minimal water.

Beca takes her jacket off and immediately feels it stick to her arm, which is not a good sign. She rips it off through the pain, and it's obvious her previous body check was done when she wasn't fully conscious, because her left arm is worse than she thought. By taking her jacket off, she accidentally ripped open all the grazes on her arm, which are a lot more than Beca remembered seeing. Blood is pouring out of her fast, and Beca really doesn't wanna ruin one of her clean shirts, but she knows she can't leave these wounds open and exposed. She doesn't know much about infections, but she knows it's not good to leave injuries exposed. She puts some water out of her bottle on her hand and runs it over her left arm. It stings like hell, but Beca doesn't pull away. That would be a waste of her water.

When she thinks it's clean, or as clean as it's gonna get, she wipes the blood away with some fallen leaves that she's seated on, but new blood comes boiling out just as fast. Beca knows she has to cut off the blood line with something, but her shirt is not gonna do that trick. Even the shirt around her skull is hanging loose and needs to be re-tightened every hour or so. She needs something that can be pulled really tight, and her eyes find her ripped trousers.

In no time, Beca has been able to cut off the leg of her jeans with her knife on the small tool her dad gave to her. She tights it around her upper arm and she doesn't stop until she feels her fingers becoming numb. She figures that would be tense enough.

When her arms are both fixed up the best she can, she moves her hand to the last place on her body she knows needs some attention. It's quite a deep cut by the feel of it, running from her hairline down to her eye. Beca can't see it, but she thinks it's mostly closed up, so cleaning it won't be necessary. She thinks.


Beca was intending to stay put for a little while longer to regain her strengths, but the ringing in her ears are overruled by another noise. An engine. Beca quickly rises to her feet and checks the sky to confirm her thoughts, but there's nothing. Yet the sound grows louder, and just when she thinks she's going crazy, she spots it. It's still far away, but a hovercraft is flying over the trees, and Beca's feet are moving as fast as they can. It's a mix of hopping and walking, rather than actual running, but at least she's moving.

She keeps her eyes on the vehicle hanging in the sky, who's coming closer and closer to Beca's tree. The tree where she was freefalling next to hours ago. She has almost passed the X sign she made earlier when her feet start to resist. They falter while the rest of her body continues to move forward, causing her to fall face first to the ground.

She had her doubts to whether or not they would come back for her, but the proof is right here and all Beca has to do is get up and walk a few more feet. It sounds easy, but her body is aching. It has taken severe hits and she's not sure she can make those last feet. But while she's doubting herself, her legs move to pull her up and she's quickly back on her feet. She's moving again, slowly and stumbling, but she has passed the mark, which means about fifty feet is between her and her ride home. Or at least away from here. And it sounds really easy, these things Beca has to do. She just needs to keep walking and the men will see her and they will bring her back to the bunker, where there's food and a bath and hopefully a doctor, or at least medicine. And there's really no decision there to make for her. There is no other choice than to keep moving towards the craft. Until her ears catch a sound.

And Beca's not sure when her ears have stopped ringing, but they have. And she has stopped in her tracks to listen better to the sound her ears have caught. It doesn't take long until she hears it again, louder and better this time, sending chills down her spine at how painfully panicked the screams sound. Beca's not sure who's voice it is that is screaming so loudly, it makes the trees shake, but there's familiarity in it. The voice is high and wobbly, screams escaping their owner's mouth in panic and fear. And Beca can almost feel their fright.

It's not Chloe, she knows that much. Because Chloe doesn't run away from something, definitely not out of fear. Besides, Chloe's voice sounds different than this one. But Beca can't put her finger on who the voice belongs to.

Which is when she sees two shadows running through the woods, the screams obviously belonging to one of them, because the sound follows them. And Beca wish time would stand still again like that moment just before her collision with the ground, so she could have time to figure out what to do. Time to figure out what the screams mean. Time to figure out why the Official's hovercraft is lowering. Time to figure out why the man is holding his gun.

But there is no time, so Beca moves before she can make a decision. Moving to the place where she last saw the shadows between the trees. Her feet still oppose, but they're moving faster than earlier as Beca forces one in front of the other, hand on her hurt shoulder, making herself as small as possible as she skips through the trees. The adrenaline makes her run faster, somehow, because even though she doesn't know the danger, the fact that there is danger near, makes her heart beat faster and her alertness grow.

She throws a quick look behind her, but she doesn't spot the Official, or anything for that matter, but she doesn't slow down. She just thinks it's safe to call out to the two people running. She can never catch up to them, not even with her boost of energy. She is simply too weak.

"Hey!"

She can't think of anything better to yell, hoping it will do, she calls out two times more until she gets an answer, which is ironically the same word Beca has been shouting.

"Hey!"

Beca just keeps running towards the sound, changing her course as she skips through the trees, but always in the same direction, until her legs can't move anymore. She trips, over nothing particular, and Beca falls down for the umpteenth time today. She fights hard to stay conscious and not pass out, but she freaks out when she feels fresh blood running down her face.

She has a minor mental breakdown, for just a second, where she thinks of giving up. To just keep lying here in the grass and let, whatever she's running away from, catch her. She doesn't think she can do this anymore, doesn't want to do this anymore, doesn't want to get up again.

But then the voice is back, speaking, no longer screaming, but not with any less fear inside it. And it's then that Beca recognizes it. Maybe because it's so close to her, maybe because it's no longer high-pitched, but simply whispered. Maybe it just hit her. But she looks up from the ground to confirm her findings, and she finds two teens bent over her.

One is a guy, Beca thinks. But she can't get her eyes to focus on him. Instead, they just stare at the girl. The awkward girl who sat in front of her on that table. The first one to be called into for the interview. The one with the eyes like a wounded dog.

"Beca, come on, we have to go!"

Beca sees the girl's mouth move, but her eyes stay focused on the giant cut she has on her face. A bloody scar from the corner of her left eye down her young face to the very end of her jaw.

"Beca, let's go, now!"

It was the guy's voice, Beca heard it. But she's still trying to figure out the girl's name. She knows it, she remembered it, told herself to remember it. But it's like she can't remember anything right now. The two pick her up and Beca lets them, waiting for her feet to find the ground again before she starts moving, arms around the boy and the girl as the three of them together move through the woods. And then Beca remembers her name.

Emily.


A/N: I have been staring at this chapter so long, I started to hate it, so I decided to just publish it and see if I can make things better next chapter xd Thanks for the nice words and hello to the new followers! Let me know as usual what you think ;) Tumblr = lifeisbechloe