There's this pounding in my head and it won't stop. I can fell the blood
surging trough my skull, trough all the arteries, veins and capillaries
that are engrained into my brain. I know its going to be a migraine. One
that won't let me sleep but won't let me stay awake. One that makes sure
and any noise, any sound what so ever will cause me to spin into an endless
vortex of pain.
But I have no time for this. I see the blinking neon lights first. Like that ones that you see lighted up in cheap dinners or corner liquor stores where they cell old cigarettes and stale whiskey. They are above me I notice, blinking on and off. They're also buzzing; I never noticed they buzzed before.
The sounds are slowly filtering into my consciousness.
I hear car horns and a man yelling in Chinese, something about a blinker. Then I smell the gas, the smoke and the urine. Everything comes into focus. I am no longer in L.A. anymore. I am no longer lying passed out on the floor of my room. I am no longer lying in the glass clutching the standard C.I.A. issue take home gun that just moments ago shot my best friend.
**Where am I?**
I am lying down I notice. I need to get up. I put my arm under my body, propping myself up. But I slip and I am once again lying on my side, a slight pain shooting up my arm. I try again and I make it to my feet this time.
I need to find a phone.
I start walking around. I am in a city. Hong Kong I determine once I see all the short Asians, the Chinese lettering that is plastering every available advertisement space.
I phone Kendall. He seems surprised to hear from me. Almost like he hasn't heard me in years. He even asks me if I remember where the safe house is.
I make it to the safe house. It's nothing special. They never are. The super informed me that I need to wait in my room until my contact had arrived.
After taking a shower I start noticing the changes. I had just been combating Francie...no.someone else, not Francie.I would have been covered in cuts, gashes, bruises even, but I'm not. My hair is longer than it normally is, a good four inches longer. I wasn't even wearing the same black clothes. I was dressed in blue jeans and a cream colored sweater. I change into sweats that the C.I.A. has provided.
I have always had this habit of looking over all my scars. I have quite a few, and I know where every single one came from, every single one's story. Then I notice something different.
Its right below and to the right of my naval, three inches long and celluloid. I've never seen this scar before. I never remember receiving it. I review the fight that still lies fresh in my mind; I didn't even get it there. All those injuries, if they where there, would have been centered on my face and limbs, maybe some bruises around my abdomen, maybe even some small cuts. But not a cut as sever and this scar it seems to have caused. I've been sitting there looking myself over when the door opens.
Its Vaughn.my guardian angle here to rescue me.
I jump from my sitting position and embrace him in a much needed hug. Yet even though I am hugging him, he isn't hugging me back. Maybe he's just in shock, so I dismiss it. It's probably nothing.
He motions for me to sit down. So I do. He sits down in front of me on a chair. He isn't looking at me; I can see that he is trying to. It seems almost as if he looks at me he would be committing some sort of sin.
All of a sudden I burst.
"Francie..she's the double..and Will, oh god, Will, is he ok?" I ask, one question right after another.
Vaughn is still acting sure. He looks as if he is trying to tell me something, but he is trying to figure out how to tell me..there is definitely something wrong.
"Francie, I know, and Will, Will's doing ok."
"Vaughn?" I ask, "What's going on."
All of a sudden I become panicky. I knew something was wrong, I only choose to pick up small hints of it. But now I know something is wrong, something is dangerously wrong.
"Syd.Sydney.ever sense that night..you've, you've been missing for almost two years." He managed to stutter.
A/N: I have to admit, I really suck at updating. But please, forgive me and read this story. I will be posting more...I'm not really sure where I'll be taking this story too, so just bare with me while my blonde brain of mine figures out what if fudges name I am going to do. Tootles.
REMEMBER TO REVIEW!!!!
Reality **Also known as Egyptian Kat, just in case you were curious**
But I have no time for this. I see the blinking neon lights first. Like that ones that you see lighted up in cheap dinners or corner liquor stores where they cell old cigarettes and stale whiskey. They are above me I notice, blinking on and off. They're also buzzing; I never noticed they buzzed before.
The sounds are slowly filtering into my consciousness.
I hear car horns and a man yelling in Chinese, something about a blinker. Then I smell the gas, the smoke and the urine. Everything comes into focus. I am no longer in L.A. anymore. I am no longer lying passed out on the floor of my room. I am no longer lying in the glass clutching the standard C.I.A. issue take home gun that just moments ago shot my best friend.
**Where am I?**
I am lying down I notice. I need to get up. I put my arm under my body, propping myself up. But I slip and I am once again lying on my side, a slight pain shooting up my arm. I try again and I make it to my feet this time.
I need to find a phone.
I start walking around. I am in a city. Hong Kong I determine once I see all the short Asians, the Chinese lettering that is plastering every available advertisement space.
I phone Kendall. He seems surprised to hear from me. Almost like he hasn't heard me in years. He even asks me if I remember where the safe house is.
I make it to the safe house. It's nothing special. They never are. The super informed me that I need to wait in my room until my contact had arrived.
After taking a shower I start noticing the changes. I had just been combating Francie...no.someone else, not Francie.I would have been covered in cuts, gashes, bruises even, but I'm not. My hair is longer than it normally is, a good four inches longer. I wasn't even wearing the same black clothes. I was dressed in blue jeans and a cream colored sweater. I change into sweats that the C.I.A. has provided.
I have always had this habit of looking over all my scars. I have quite a few, and I know where every single one came from, every single one's story. Then I notice something different.
Its right below and to the right of my naval, three inches long and celluloid. I've never seen this scar before. I never remember receiving it. I review the fight that still lies fresh in my mind; I didn't even get it there. All those injuries, if they where there, would have been centered on my face and limbs, maybe some bruises around my abdomen, maybe even some small cuts. But not a cut as sever and this scar it seems to have caused. I've been sitting there looking myself over when the door opens.
Its Vaughn.my guardian angle here to rescue me.
I jump from my sitting position and embrace him in a much needed hug. Yet even though I am hugging him, he isn't hugging me back. Maybe he's just in shock, so I dismiss it. It's probably nothing.
He motions for me to sit down. So I do. He sits down in front of me on a chair. He isn't looking at me; I can see that he is trying to. It seems almost as if he looks at me he would be committing some sort of sin.
All of a sudden I burst.
"Francie..she's the double..and Will, oh god, Will, is he ok?" I ask, one question right after another.
Vaughn is still acting sure. He looks as if he is trying to tell me something, but he is trying to figure out how to tell me..there is definitely something wrong.
"Francie, I know, and Will, Will's doing ok."
"Vaughn?" I ask, "What's going on."
All of a sudden I become panicky. I knew something was wrong, I only choose to pick up small hints of it. But now I know something is wrong, something is dangerously wrong.
"Syd.Sydney.ever sense that night..you've, you've been missing for almost two years." He managed to stutter.
A/N: I have to admit, I really suck at updating. But please, forgive me and read this story. I will be posting more...I'm not really sure where I'll be taking this story too, so just bare with me while my blonde brain of mine figures out what if fudges name I am going to do. Tootles.
REMEMBER TO REVIEW!!!!
Reality **Also known as Egyptian Kat, just in case you were curious**
