Awkward is the only way that I can describe the car journey. Lawrence didn't say a word to me. He had this psychotic look in his eye as he drove determined through the night. His eyes were filled with a look that I recognised, a look I didn't want to see. One from the bathroom. I shudder when I think of the look in his eyes. He had the gun pointing at me, his hands shaking as he waved it about. 'You have to die.' The look he gave me before he shot me in the shoulder. I want to say something to him, but I can't. Physically, my brain won't let me talk.
Lawrence pulled up at a desolate warehouse; it looked like it hasn't been used in years. No lights were on around it. Lawrence turned the engine off and looked at me.
"It's time, Adam."
"What for?" He gets out of the car without another door, I follow him slowly. "Lawrence, please! Talk to me. Why are we here?" He ignored me, walking at a steady pace, his hands buried deep in his pockets. I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
"Goddamn it, Lawrence!" I shout, I'd never seen him move so quickly after that, he was by my side, his hand holding my shoulders tightly, squeezing roughly, I gulped.
"Listen to me, Adam. Shut up, do as you're told. You survived; it doesn't mean you are free from this. It's time for you to learn how to help people instead of tearing their lives apart!" He spat at me, dragging me along, quicker. I was tripping over my heels as he pulled me.
The door to the warehouse opened, I felt the sweat slowly beginning to fall off my forehead as I saw him standing there.
Was this another game?
