The Silent Forest
Summary: A field trip becomes a nightmare when the gang is separated from the rest of the group in the middle of a vast forest. Things go from bad to worse when they discover that they are not alone.
Pairings: Chaylor, Troyella and some mild Zekepay. Ryan will also feature but with no pairing.
Disclaimer: Yep, I own it. *Keeps dreaming*
Warnings: Possible character death(s). Rated T for some language and quite a bit of violence/blood. Probable spelling and grammar mistakes due to my lack of beta.
19. The Black Abyss of Pure Nothing
They say that when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. That's a lie. All you see is a blinding white light that get's impossibly brighter and brighter, reaching a level of brilliant intensity you never thought possible. Then, it fades. It fades into a numbing darkness. A black abyss of pure nothing.
The darkness is death. Once you reach it, there is no return.
Crackling and roaring as the inferno devoured the wood of the cabin. Behind the ringing in my ears, it was slowly getting louder. Pushing through my barrier of numbness. The whistling of the wind and the rustle of the trees. The veil of darkness started to weaken. I could see the morning sky, clouded with thick towers of black smoke. The tips of my toes began to tingle. Lightly at first, but growing in strength until I finally had the ability to wiggle them. With difficulty, of course, but at least I was moving. I was alive. The sensation travelled up my legs. It carried on past my waist and spread over my torso. At long last, I could turn my head.
Unfortunately, as my ability to feel had returned, so had the pain that my numbness had masked. My head was pounding so hard I thought my brain might actually have been repeatedly banging up against the inside of my skull. Most of my body was throbbing to the rhythm of my head's surges of dull pain. My face felt as if it had been shoved in a blender. From the way Gabriella had looked at me before, it probably looked like it too. Gabriella.
I barely remembered what had happened in the explosion. I remembered making it onto the porch and feeling as if maybe we'd actually have a happy ending. Gabriella was helping me support Chad. The last thing I saw before the world went black at the sound of that loud bang, was Gabriella. She was gazing into the cabin as the man inside met his fiery death. Her face was being lit up by the orange glow of the flames and her messy hair was shining as it blew in the wind. On any other occasion, I would have told her how stunning she looked. At that moment in time, I would have been happy dying with her beautiful face being the last thing I ever saw.
Where was she now?
I tried to sit up. My body protested. It was only then that I realised something that hadn't occurred to me before. Most of my body was hurting. Most. Almost all of it. But not all of it. And the one part of my body that wasn't hurting was the part that had been aching non-stop ever since I'd dislocated it. I would have thought that, once the constant pain in my arm had stopped, I'd be glad. But I wasn't. It wasn't just the pain that was gone. I'd lost all feeling. I wriggled the fingers of my left hand; the one I hadn't dislocated. It worked fine. It was a little rusty and hurt a bit but it worked. I wriggled the toes on both my feet. I bent and flexed my ankles and knees. My body was fine. But my right arm was not. From the shoulder down, it was completely unresponsive. As much as my brain screamed at it to move, I couldn't even muster a finger twitch.
I wondered why. It could have been related to a head or spine injury; maybe an injury from the blast, although I had felt it tingling slightly before we had reached the cabin. I'd shrugged it off at the time but now I was starting to wonder if maybe when Chad had cracked it back into place he had made a mistake.
I started to panic as all my dreams for the future fell apart. What if it was permanent? What if I was paralysed? I'd never play basketball again. I'd have to pursue a different career. But how would I get into college when I'd been relying on a sport scholarship? If I didn't go to college, how was I supposed to get a decent job? A decent life? I tried to shake the negative thoughts from my mind but they just kept growing. What would Gabriella think? Was Gabriella even alive? Why, in all this time, hadn't I heard from any of my friends? Was I the only survivor? Were they all dead?
I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't lie there, wallowing in my own insecurities. I had to find the others. I had to get out. Get help. Get home. I slowly pulled myself to a seated position. The only thing in front of me was the trees. I craned my neck and looked behind me. The blast had thrown me about half way through the clearing.
At first, I didn't see any of my friends. Their bodies were hidden, buried in the long grass. Or maybe they had been thrown further into the forest. I didn't know. A new wave of panic was returning.
Then, I spotted them.
Feet.
They were poking out from within the cover of grass. They were without shoes or socks, but dressed in tights that were ripped, laddered and dirty on the sole. I had to find out who they were attached to. And if their owner was still alive. With great effort, I managed to haul myself onto my hands and knees. It was tough crawling with only one functional arm, but the feet weren't far and I was fuelled with determination.
Unexpectedly, just as I reached them, the legs that the feet belonged to retracted slowly so that the feet disappeared from view. I pulled back the green curtain of grass, desperate to relocate my last ounce of hope.
She was lying on her side, trembling harshly with her legs tucked to her chest and arms wrapped around herself. What shocked me to the core was how her appearance had transformed. Her flawless hair was charred and shrivelled to the point that her sore, red scalp could be seen beneath. Her previously fair skin was cracked and swollen with worrying, red, bloody blisters, so badly so that I could barely recognise her. The awful burns covered one side of her face and ran down her neck and shoulder. The damage that the flames had done to her beautiful face was enough to make me want to cry.
She didn't look at me right away. I wondered if she had even noticed me crouched by her feet. I wanted to reach out and tap her gently but was too afraid of aggravating her burns. Instead, I cleared my throat and spoke her name.
"Sharpay?"
The voice came as a shock. I hadn't even noticed someone approaching me. I was a little preoccupied though. The pain. The pain had most of my attention.
When I'd first woken up, I thought I'd been lucky. I could move my legs and arms with ease and it didn't seem to hurt too much. Then, I turned my head. The stinging on the side of my face was more agonising than anything I had ever felt in my life. It hurt so much I almost lost consciousness all over again. The pain returned any time a blade of grass so much as grazed me in the wind, so I turned onto my unhurt side and lay as still as possible.
Everyone's been burnt. Everyone's accidentally blistered their skin while getting something out of the oven or caught their finger when lighting a candle. That kills. This was that times a million.
I was scared. Call me shallow, but I was scared of what I might look like. I knew I was burnt. I knew it was bad. And I was so scared. Yeah, I lived, but what kind of life would it be when I'm so badly scarred I can't even show my face in public. That's if I ever got home.
I was scared. Ryan usually came to find me. Whenever I had a tantrum or stormed off, Ryan would always find me. But he hadn't. He hadn't even called my name. No-one had.
I had just been starting to think that I was the only one left alive when I heard someone say my name.
My eyes flicked down to see Troy gazing back at me. He looked awful. I'd seen him briefly before the explosion but hadn't taken in the sight of his battered face; all purple and lumpy and bloody. Then again, I probably didn't look much better. Especially with the way he couldn't even bear to meet my eyes.
I wanted to speak to him but was too afraid to move my mouth knowing how much it would hurt. I couldn't even nod. I could barely blink without sending another jolt of white hot pain through my veins. I let out a light groan and he smiled slightly.
"You're okay." He sighed.
If this is what he thought was 'okay'; burnt beyond recognition and unable to speak due to the agony, then yeah, I was definitely okay. I groaned again in reply. As glad as I was that he was alive, I wanted to find my brother. I wanted to know that Ryan was okay. He had been in a bad enough state before the explosion. I couldn't even imagine how he was suffering now. Hurt and alone. Dying. Dead. I had to find him. Problem was; I could barely move. My body didn't hurt so much but I didn't want to risk brushing my face or neck. I couldn't take another burst of pain like that.
Troy reached out his hand to me. "Do you want to sit up?" He asked.
I ignored his question and outstretched hand. I opened my mouth; just a crack, but it was enough to make my entire body shake. Tears welled up in my eyes and I realised that crying was the last thing I needed. Salt water dripping into my open wounds. No way.
Trying to speak without moving your lips is a hard job. At the back of my mind I wished I'd gone to that ventriloquist workshop they offered in the drama department at school. At the time, I'd mocked it. Little did I know then that I'd need those skills later in life.
"W… Wy…" I tried. I felt sick. I felt like I was going to throw up just due to the pain. I'd never felt like that in my life. "Wy'n." I coughed out.
"Ryan?" Troy said. Could he be any slower? I grunted to say 'yes'. Troy shrugged one shoulder. "Haven't seen him… I only just found you." He looked around him for a second, as if to prove his point, then shrugged again. "Sorry."
I made a decision then that my agony meant nothing until I found my brother. I may have been in pain, but he was too. Either that or he was dead. I cautiously lifted myself off the ground so I was sitting opposite Troy.
His gaze shifted awkwardly as he tried to avoid looking at my face. A lump grew in my throat. Was I that hideous?
"We'll find the others." He suggested in a questioning tone.
I didn't answer but got to my feet. My legs were like jelly for a second, as if I hadn't walked on them in months. I got used to it and looked around. Troy got up and stood next to me. He pointed to a patch of moving grass. Due to its length, we couldn't see what or who was on the floor beneath the grass to be moving it, so we started towards it.
As we walked, Troy suddenly disappeared from my side. When I looked back, I saw that he had tripped and was laying face-down on the floor. His foot had gotten caught on someone's unmoving body.
He gasped as he caught sight of her.
She was bleeding.
She must have been hit by some sharp debris because she had a large, deep wound where her neck met her shoulder. She was unnaturally pale. Her eyes were closed.
Troy pressed his hand to her neck to stop the blood that was pulsing out. I noticed that his other hand hung loose at his side. To my surprise- and probably Troy's too- she moved. She turned her head away from Troy's hand and groaned.
"Gabriella." He whispered.
He found me. I knew he would. I'd been waiting. I'd been clinging onto life in the hopes that he'd find me. I'd been desperately trying to avoid the darkness. The darkness that grew more and more imminent as I felt the blood pouring from my wound.
I could literally feel it as it gushed out of my neck. I was losing so much that I could barely believe I was still alive. The human body was an amazing thing.
I lay completely still as the warm liquid dripped down my shoulder and chest but mostly stained the ground beneath me. Troy's face came into view and I smiled with genuine happiness to see him. He was alive. He found me.
"Don't worry." He told me.
To be honest, I wasn't worried at all. If I died, I died. I'd had a good life. I'd die in the arms of the guy I was in love with. Obviously, I was sad that my dreams of spending the rest of my life with him were being cut short but at least I'd had him. And he had me. And if I didn't die, well, that would be great. We'd survived so long and overcome so much that it kind of felt wrong to just go and die at the end of it.
Then again, there's only so much that my body could take. I was still being affected by the sulphur. And now I was bleeding out. I'd probably die.
"You're not gonna die." Troy said as if he'd been reading my mind. The honesty in his eyes was enough to make me believe him. I knew that, if he had his way, I wouldn't die. If he could, he'd probably sacrifice his life for me to live. I was lucky to have him.
He pressed harder on my neck and I hissed in pain. He gave me an apologetic look but didn't ease the pressure. "I have to stop the bleeding." He explained.
I understood. I adored him for his efforts. I could see the desperation in his eyes. He was willing me to live. And suddenly, I wasn't so ready to die. I couldn't leave him behind. We had so much to do together. I couldn't just leave him. I loved him too much to be without him. And, not in an arrogant way but, I knew he wouldn't be able to handle life without me. We needed each other.
"I need a bandage…" He said more to himself than to me. He was busy trying to keep his hand on my neck while looking desperately for something to use as a bandage.
"Rip your sleeve." I suggested quietly. That's what they did in the movies. They ripped off their shirt sleeves with ease and patched up cuts in a jiffy. But this wasn't the movies. Troy didn't even attempt to rip off his sleeve. "Rip off you-." I started to repeat myself as I was sure he hadn't heard me.
"I can't." He said. He looked away to mask the anguish in his eyes. "I-… I need to keep my hand on your neck or you'll bleed out." He said sadly.
"Use your other hand." I told him as if it was obvious.
He looked at me then looked away again. It was brief, but I saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes. I followed his gaze to find he was staring down at his right hand which lay on the ground beneath him. I could tell something was wrong.
"I can't." He said again. The sorrow in his voice almost broke my heart. "I can't move it. It's… it-." His voice cracked with emotion. I found my heart beating hard in my chest for fear of what he was going to say. "Paralysed." He finally sobbed.
I gasped but couldn't bring myself to believe it. His arm couldn't be paralysed. Why would it be? How could it be?
"Put your hand where mine is." Troy ordered, his voice hard and stern. I could tell he was trying to be strong. I knew that he knew what a paralysed arm meant for his future. I knew he was just trying to put on a brave face. Probably for my benefit.
I did as he said. The feeling of my own blood between my fingers was sickeningly unique. I watched as he tore off his right shirt sleeve. It wasn't as easy as they made it look on TV. And once it was off, it was even tougher for him to apply it to my cut. It was in such an awkward place. All he could do was either wrap the material around my arm or wrap it around my neck. Either way, about half of the wound would still be left exposed each time.
He decided on tying it around my arm and I kept my hand on it to minimize any further blood loss.
Troy stopped to look at his handiwork. He seemed truly pleased with himself. He leaned over my and touched his lips to mine.
"Love you." He whispered in my ear. Before I could reply, he had sat up and was looking around with confusion. "Where's Sharpay?" He asked randomly.
"Shar-?"
"She was here." He interrupted me. He got to his feet. "Sharpay was-… she was right here." He looked into the distance at a spot that I couldn't see lying down. He cupped his hand to his mouth. "Sharpay!" He called out.
I heard her answer. "I'm here!"
Curious, I quickly sat up. Too quickly. My head started spinning and I had to use my free hand to steady myself from swaying. Once I'd regained my balance, I peered over the grass at where Troy was looking. I could see what I was guessing was Sharpay's arm waving in the air. That was just about all I could make out from where I was sitting.
I looked back at Troy who was grinning cheerfully.
"What is it?" I asked him, curious as to what could make him so happy at a time like this. He'd found Sharpay, which was great but not spectacular. He already knew she was alive.
He turned to me with the smile still unfaltering on his face. "She found Taylor."
Finally, hope. I'd woken up in total darkness. At first, I thought I'd been unconscious until night. Then, I realised there were no stars in the dark sky. And no sky is that black. Next, I thought maybe I was blindfolded. Unlikely, but I was desperate. I raised my hands to my face and touched my eyes. They weren't covered. Maybe, I thought, I was in a dark room. A pitch black room. Or a box. A coffin. I felt around. I was on grassy ground. I was outside on the soil.
I finally came to terms with the fact that my vision, which had slowly been deteriorating, was gone now. Completely. I was blind. Blind. That word had meant so little to me before. Now it was all I could think about.
I couldn't see.
That meant I couldn't read. I couldn't write. I couldn't watch TV. I'd never see another sunrise. If I had children, I'd never see them smile. I could put myself in danger and not even know. How was I meant to go to school if I couldn't make my way there? If I managed to find my way there, how was I supposed to work out equations on boards I couldn't see? How could I read books with words I couldn't see? How could I use chemicals in science when I can't read the labels? How was I supposed to live my life with this impossible disability?
I don't cry much. In the last few day's I'd done it a lot. But usually, it takes something huge to drive me to tears. I was crying now, though. I was crying without shame. I was sobbing as I sat cross-legged with my head in my hands.
I felt so vulnerable. So alone. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know where my friends were.
Then, I heard voices. Part of me was scared of being found in case it wasn't one of my friends. But I mostly just didn't want to be alone anymore.
I listened to the footsteps and rustling of the grass as whoever it was got closer. They stopped right above me. I didn't remove my head from my hands or turn to the sound. I didn't see the point. I wouldn't be able to see them anyway.
"Taylor?"
I knew that voice. It was Sharpay. She'd found me. Finally, hope. I felt her move to my side and, judging from the closeness of her voice, I guessed that she was crouched or knelt beside me.
"Ah… you huwt?" She asked.
I turned my head to the side to face her. I wondered why her speech was slurred. "Are you?" I asked back. She must have been. There was no other reason for her to talk so strangely.
"Bit… buwnt." She mumbled.
I could tell what she was thinking. She was wondering why I hadn't noticed. If her burns were affecting her speech, they were obviously to the face. And I was 'looking' at her face. I should have noticed. "I can't see." I explained.
I imagined her recoil. "At all?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
She was clearly lost for words as I received no reply. But I suppose there's not much you can say to that, really. 'That's a shame, but at least you can hear.' Nothing right now would comfort me. As far as I could tell, my life was over.
All we'd wanted was to get home safely. Maybe I was being pathetic but I didn't even want to go home. Not like this. I didn't want to imagine the life I'd have. How do you get over events like the ones we'd all endured? How do you forget them and get on with your life as well as dealing with the side effects? It wasn't just me feeling like this. No-one had said anything but I could tell, as each day went by, all of us were getting less and less enthusiastic. Dying would be a lot easier than living with these memories.
I didn't realise I was crying until I felt Sharpay's hand on my cheek. It surprised me at first as I hadn't seen it coming and didn't expect such compassion from Sharpay of all people. She used her thumb to wipe away my tears. I felt her hand shaking slightly. It dawned on me that I hadn't thought about how she was feeling.
She was burnt. On her face. Badly enough to impair her speech. She'd always prided in her appearance. She was probably as devastated as I was. Maybe more.
Another thought occurred to me. I'd heard Sharpay talking before she had approached me. She was talking to someone which meant that others were alive. We weren't the only survivors. I hoped that we'd all survived. Losing Zeke was painful enough. I hoped Chad had survived but I was still unsure if he'd been alive before the blast anyway.
Chad would know how to comfort me. He'd know what to say to, at least momentarily, assure me that being blind wasn't so bad. Blind. Every time I thought of it, that word would remain in my head. It was so harsh. So definite. So irreversibly certain.
"Have you found any others?" I asked her.
She removed her hand from my face. "Yeah," she said. I detected a hint of sadness in her voice as if she'd found someone but not who she was looking for. "Troy and Gabriella are just over ther-." She stopped as she realised I couldn't see where she was pointing. "They're not far behind us."
I nodded. "Are they okay?" I was thrilled that my best friend had survived. I knew she was a fighter. And Troy too, was great news. However, it was not the news I was looking for.
I was starting to realise that Sharpay and I were both in similar positions. We were both badly and probably permanently damaged by the explosion. We were both kind of remorseful about the fact that we were alive. We were both missing the people most important to us.
"Gabi's bleedin' pwetty bad." Sharpay said in answer to my question. "N' I think there's summin wrong with Troy's arm."
I was about to ask about Chad and Ryan when I heard Troy's voice. He was calling Sharpay's name. I felt her move from next to me and guessed she was standing up. She took my hand and pulled me up with her. She replied to him and squeezed my hand.
After that, another voice called her name. It wasn't Troy. It came from behind us. Sharpay let go of my hand and I suddenly felt vulnerable again. I felt around for her but my hands couldn't locate her. I was thrown into disarray. I whimpered as I threw my arms out in all directions, desperate to find something or someone to hold onto. I refused to move my feet from the spot for fear of what I might stand on or trip over. Sharpay's footsteps were getting further away. Rapidly. She was sprinting. Far enough now that I could barely hear her anymore. Then, I heard her voice and knew why she was running. She'd found him.
"Ryan!"
I was surprised she'd heard me. I'd been calling her name since I'd awoken. She hadn't answered. I was scared. I needed her. It hurt so much.
My leg. I'd never felt such pain in my life. It felt like the bone in my leg had been shattered from the knee down. It felt like my foot had been crushed into a pulp. It felt like my blood was acid, eating away at my flesh. Once I managed to sit up, I realised it looked like it too.
I wanted to be sick again. It was the most disgusting thing I'd ever seen. And it was mine. Half my pant leg was gone, showing the bloody mess of what had once been a limb underneath. The splintered bone poked through my calf muscle. There was so much blood. It gushed out mercilessly every time my heart beat. I didn't even attempt to move my toes. I wasn't stupid. I knew how much that would hurt. And I wasn't bothered if my toes worked enough to risk that kind of pain.
I couldn't look at it any more. It was clear I'd probably never walk again. Not properly anyway. Half of my leg was hanging on by a thread. If I lived long enough, I'd probably have to have it amputated. It was broken beyond repair. I'd never walk on it. Never walk again. Never dance.
And in an instant, my dreams of going to Juilliard, being a famous choreographer… gone. Of all the injuries I could have sustained, the powers that be really had a sense of humour to mangle my leg.
I heaved a sigh and lay down on my back.
At least I was alive. I could adapt, maybe. Find a new dream. Follow a new career path. At least I was alive. All that mattered now was that my sister was safe and unhurt. Or, like me, at least alive. If not, well then I didn't want to live either. People always said I was her lap dog; I followed her around and did whatever I was told to, but I needed her. I was lost without her. If she was sad, I was sad. If she was happy, so was I. If she was dead, you may as well kill me too because, on the inside I'd be dead.
I called her name but my unused voice was hoarse and my smoke-filled throat was sore. It was little more than a whisper. I tried again. And again. Until I was out of breath. No-one had answered. What if they were all dead?
I couldn't think like that. If I did, I'd have a breakdown right there and then. So I kept shouting in the hopes that maybe once she'd-
"Ryan!"
I thought I'd imagined it at first. Maybe my wishful thinking was playing tricks on me. But she called me again. She was getting louder. And, before I knew it, she was right there, standing above me.
She was silhouetted against the bright sky so I couldn't tell if she'd seen my leg or not. Well, not until that horrified gasp. She pointed at it with a mixture of disgust and trepidation. I could tell she was about to say something so I stopped her.
"Don't." I said. I didn't want to hear it. I knew it looked awful. I knew how mashed up it was. Suddenly, I wasn't so happy to see her. It was fine when I wasn't sure if she was alive. Back then, I needed to see her. Just to know she was okay. But now I could see that she was fine. And I didn't need her clueless and naïve outlook on my injury. She probably hadn't even thought about how much it was hurting or what it meant for my future. Just how it was so… 'ew'.
She slowly lowered herself so she was sitting beside me. I looked the other way to implicate that I didn't want to talk. She ignored the gesture.
"Glad I found you…" She told me. "You okay?"
I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. What kind of question was that? I was being bitter, I know, but really. Did I look okay?
"It fuckin' kills, Shar." I bit sourly. I turned my head so I faced even further away from her. I crossed my arms on my chest. If she was the only survivor and I had to sit and wait for either rescue or death with her it would be torture. I hoped the others had survived.
What she did next didn't surprise me. "You think you're the only one suffering?" She asked loudly. I knew it. She was about to turn it around and talk about herself. I couldn't believe that, even at a time like this, she was being self-centred enough to argue with me. Argue the fact that my leg- which looked and felt like it had been through a shredder- wasn't as bad as her minor, unnoticeable, affectless injuries.
I didn't reply. Why encourage her? I knew she was about to go on one of her 'me, me, me' rants. It didn't matter what I said. I loved her, with all my heart, but sometimes the love for my twin never went past the unconditional stuff. As in, sometimes I only loved her because I had to. Because she was my sister.
"You haven't even asked how I am, Ryan." She continued. Just as I'd predicted. But then she took a different route. An unexpected one. "Or, how about your friends, huh? How are they? Are they even alive?" She said. Then she sighed as if something had just occurred to her. "Maybe 'cos you're leg's broken, you think you must be the worst off out of all of us? Is that what you think? You've been hurt the worst?"
I'd often heard this kind of bitter anger in her voice. The tinge of hatred. But, for some reason, this time it was a lot more extreme. I opened my mouth to protest. She was shouting at me. I was bleeding to death and she was shouting at me. She cut me off.
"You know," she said. "Gabriella's over there. She's got blood pouring out of her neck." I resisted the urge to look up. My gaze remained on a tree to my left. "Troy's trying to help her," she continued. "But there's only so much he can do with only one working arm."
I wanted her to stop. She'd made her point. I understood. It had been wrong of me to wallow in self pity. I should have been thankful I was alive. I was one of the lucky ones. But something told me she was only just beginning. And she wasn't talking only to me anymore. She was saying all his for her own benefit.
"Taylor," she laughed sadly. "She can't see. I- I've left her wandering around… blind, so I could find you. She was in a state when I found her. And now I've left her on her own again, just to be with you. And you can't even look at me? You don't even bother to ask me how I am?"
I heard her stop to catch her breath. She was wheezing again. She'd got herself worked up. I was glad she'd stopped. I wasn't sure if I could take much more. She really knew how to get to me.
"How are you?" I asked quietly. If that's what she wanted, if that's what would make her shut up, then fine, I asked her.
She let out another cheerless chuckle. "Fabulous." She said sarcastically. "I'm alive." She told me. "And thankful for it."
I could tell she was lying. She wasn't thankful at all. Everything she'd just said wasn't meant for me. She was trying to reassure herself that whatever injury she had sustained wasn't as bad as it could be. She was trying to make herself feel better about the fact that she'd rather be dead. I didn't even have to look at her to know. I could just hear it in her voice. Sense it from her words. We were twins. She couldn't hide feelings like that from me.
She sniffed. "Look at me, Ryan." I could tell she was crying.
I complied. I knew she was desperate. She needed me as much as I did her.
She didn't look like my sister. She wasn't my perfect angel, Sharpay. I hated myself for thinking it but she scared me. Her face was just… wrong. All the care she'd put into it day and night with the constant facials, the creams, special washes and all that nonsense that I told her didn't work… all that effort was down the drain.
I kept telling myself it was good. She was live. It was good. She was alive. But the sadness in her eyes was heartbreaking. I could live with her being scarred. She'd always be my sister. She'd always be my beautiful twin. She'd always be perfect in my eyes. But she couldn't live with it. Her looks had always been her safety blanket. People worshipped her. I could see the lack of life in her eyes. The loss of hope.
I couldn't bear to gaze into those solid pools of blue devastation any more. I turned my head away and focused on the tree again.
"See," She said. "We're all suffering. I'm so hideous my own brother can't even look at me."
I turned back to her but she was getting up to walk away.
"Alive…" She said as she got to her feet. "And thankful for it."
She turned her back on me and disappeared into the grass. "Please don't leave me." I begged her, sounding like a child. I didn't want to be alone again. I needed her. I always needed her.
She was already gone.
We were messed up. Too much had happened to us for peace of mind to have remained. We were on the verge of madness, turning against each other in a chaos of emotions.
Sharpay had left me. While I bled on the dirty floor. She left me; her own brother, to die.
What was the point anymore? Why was life clinging on when it was so vastly unwanted? For the first time, we just didn't want to live. And yet, life wouldn't let go. It wouldn't cut its losses and let us rest in peace. All I wanted was for the world to disappear around me. I wanted to float in darkness and never return to this life. I didn't even want memories of it. I wished I'd never existed on this planet.
Sharpay reappeared above me. She sat down wordlessly and fiddled with the grass around her. She didn't need to say anything. She'd come back. That was all that mattered.
"Where did you go?" I asked to break the silence.
She didn't look at me. "To help Taylor find Chad." She mumbled.
"And did you? Find him?" I knew she probably wouldn't have returned to me if she hadn't found him. But if she had found him, she didn't seem at all pleased about it.
She nodded.
When I realised she was going to say any more, I asked another question. "Is he okay?"
She glanced behind her. I saw her wince as she stretched her burnt skin. As if on cue, I heard Chad scream from the distance. Sharpay turned back around and looked at me for the first time since returning.
"No," she replied sorrowfully. "He's not."
I wasn't dead.
From the moment my head hit that table, I was engulfed in darkness. I couldn't move. I couldn't feel. Not even my heartbeat. But I wasn't dead. I wasn't giving up.
I had no idea what was happening. Surely, this wasn't what death was like. An eternity of darkness. Maybe it was hell. Maybe I was in limbo. Maybe I was in a coma. It was as if I was sleeping. I was in a dream and could do nothing to control it. And all I wanted was to wake up.
I knew something was wrong with me. I knew it was because of the head injury. I just hoped it wasn't permanent. I hoped it would come to an end. And soon. I wanted to see my friends. I needed to know that they were okay. We'd always been in this together. I just hoped we'd made it out all together. I hoped we'd all lived.
Taylor, thankfully, had exited the cabin safely. I remembered that. I was just praying that nothing else had happened to her. I was mainly worried about Troy and Gabriella. After I was out of the way, I knew Gabriella was the next target and if she ended up like I had, she was in for a lot of grief. And Troy, my best friend, he had tried so hard to save everyone. So selflessly, he risked his own life to ensure the safety of others. It was only right that he should survive himself.
Then came a sound, loud enough to break through my barrier between life and death. A deep boom that echoed throughout my brain. I felt the heat on my back. I felt things lightly beating my skin, like many fingertips tapping all over my body. I felt the cold, seeping wet of the grass that I lay on. And I could only think one thing.
I wasn't dead.
The joy I felt was short lived. The light tapping on my skin circulated my body and then focused on my abdomen. In that one single spot in the centre of my stomach, it went from feeling like hundreds of pattering fingers to thousands of sharp, poking talons.
I wanted to cry out in pain but I still couldn't move. And due to the fact that I was surrounded by black nothing, I couldn't see what was hurting me either. I felt like I was powerless while some ravaging creature devoured my insides. For all I knew, that could actually have been happening.
I could do nothing but suffer as the agony grew increasingly intense. This was starting to seem more and more like hell. I was losing all hope. I wanted to die if death would stop the pain. The chaos seemed to be reaching its unbearable climax of hurt. I knew that soon I'd either die or explode.
My abdomen erupted into a mess of white hot agony. Suddenly, there were no restraints. No more paralysing darkness. I was screaming.
I was screaming so loud I could hear nothing else. I was screaming so hard my lungs felt as if they'd implode on themselves. I was being torn apart from the inside out. I was in hell. I had to be. I was burning in the pits of hell. And there was no escape.
An angel stood over me, silhouetted by the sun. In her right hand she held a bolt of lightening. Its shining tip was directed at my screaming abdomen. I opened my mouth to beg her to either spare me or make my death swift and painless. Neither plea's left my lips.
I heard her sweet, harmonious voice singing my name over and over. Her voice was like a remedy. It soothed me and- didn't eliminate my pain- but definitely lessened it. It lessened it enough to clear my delirious thoughts and add realism to the situation.
She wasn't an angel. But she was close enough. She was my angel. Taylor McKessie. The sun behind her fell behind a thick cloud of smoke and the relieved half-smile on her face got clearer and clearer. She tilted her head to the side in the cute, inquisitive way I'd always loved.
She uttered my name again in a questioning tone. I realised she wasn't looking right at me. The usual life in her eyes was replaced with a blank, lost look. I thought it odd but was still in too much pain to ask questions.
"Chad?" She said again.
A thought hit me. She couldn't see me. I was a ghost. I was dead. I tried to speak but all that came out was an unfathomable moan. Her eyes widened and started to jet around quickly. Her crooked smile grew.
"Sorry about the-…" she trailed of and waved the splintered plank of wood that she held in her right hand in front of my face. "When I found you," she began quietly as she slowly and cautiously lowered herself to sit on the ground beside me. "The first thing I felt was this… horrible, sharp piece of… wood? Then I felt the blood." She bit down on her lip and placed the wood on the floor in front of her. "And I knew you'd been impaled." Her nose wrinkled at the final word.
My fingers traced over my body to find a gaping hole in my stomach. I could feel the pulsation of the blood circulating inside me. It wasboth obscure and unreal. I had my hand inside myself; not deep, but it was in there. With my organs. Near my ribs. Strange thing was, amongst all the pain I was in, the feeling of my hand made no difference. I could barely feel it at all.
"I didn't know what to do." She explained. "So I just… I pulled it." She sighed and shook her head. "But, hey," she continued with chirpy enthusiasm. "It worked. You're awake."
I smiled. "I'm awake." I repeated quietly.
Her head shot up at the sound of my voice as if she hadn't expected it. She narrowed her eyes with curiosity then smiled a sideways grin. She leaned forward and grasped the air in front of her with her hands. I reached up and took them and placed them on each side of my face. Her smile grew as if this had been exactly what she'd wanted. She leaned further forward and followed her hands with her face until her lips met mine.
"My Chad Danforth." She whispered, resting her forehead on mine. I removed my hand from on top of hers and placed it on one of her cheeks. She still hadn't met my eyes. I was getting concerned.
I didn't want to spoil the sensitive moment we were having but I had to know… "Look at me, Taylor." I said.
She pulled away and sat back on her heels. She exhaled heavily. I knew I had burst our bubble of bliss. The bubble where pain didn't exist. The last few days didn't exist. The bubble where it was just me and her and we were safe from anything. I'd burst it.
She shut her eyes softly and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
I didn't get an answer. Troy appeared behind Taylor. He had his arm around Gabriella. She was standing but mostly with his support. Her head hung loosely to the side to rest on his shoulder revealing a scrap of bloody material around her arm. It only covered a small portion of the leaking gash in her flesh.
"Hey guys." He greeted. The fatigue in his voice was obvious.
In the corner of my eye, I saw Taylor jump with surprise at his voice. Troy lowered Gabriella to the floor. She was strangely pale. Her eyelids looked heavy as she dragged herself to sit beside Taylor. Without a word, she leaned over and rested her head in Taylor's lap. Instinctively, Taylor began to stroke her best friends matted hair.
Troy walked to my other side. I could see him looking at my abdomen. He grimaced and sat down. "Thought you were dead." He said quietly. He ruffled my hair playfully, making me feel like a kid. I couldn't help but grin.
"Sharpay and Ryan…?" I asked. I thought it would be a bit too hopeful of me to expect those two to be okay. Four survivors out of six was a miracle enough. But I hoped they were alive. I could hope.
Sharpay, never one to miss a cue, arrived promptly afterwards. "We're right here." She grunted under the weight of her brother. He had his arm slung over her shoulder and stood on one leg. From where I lay, I couldn't see what was wrong with his other leg. But from the pure agony etched in his face, it must have been something bad.
Ryan hopped a few steps away from her and plonked himself heavily onto his backside. She sat behind me, by my head. I couldn't see her well without moving but I could see enough to know she was badly burnt.
We made a sorry bunch. Bloody and broken. But alive. At least we had that. For how long, however, I wasn't sure. We were nowhere closer to being found than we had been when we started out. We were in poor condition. We were hurt. We were starving. We were dying.
As the smoke blocked out the midday sun, a dark shadow fell upon us. Like a curtain closing at the end of a play, I couldn't help but think that this was the end.
A/N: LONG delay. Sorry. I hope the length of this chapter made up for that. This would have been up a lot sooner but I had a crazy xmas! And probably the wildest New Year… And guess who went to see High School Musical on Ice?! So yeah, I was busy. Haha. The final chapter will be up before next Monday hopefully.
xX M Xx