Well, I can't update a lot anymore, due to the internet being a poop, so I've had to update now any time I can. :p Thanks so much for the comments and for baring with me!

Comments:

boxtoplad999: Thanks for commenting! I'm glad you like it! :)

Alright, here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: If I haven't owned Maximum Ride before, what makes you think I own it now?

It happened under the cloak of night.

I was asleep, dreaming that Dylan and I were up in a tree on a deserted island somewhere, talking and laughing like we were old friends. It was when he leaned down to kiss me that things went wrong.

Pain errupted in my skull, causing me to sit up and grab my head in my hands, suppressing a scream. A blinding light flashed before my eyes, somehow making the pain even worse. Right when I thought my brain would explode from my skull, sending bloody and slimy chunks everywhere, I saw him.

It was a doctor, looking down at me, his eyes hiding behind glasses. He was wearing scrubs, fit for surgery. Something about this doctor seemed different, though. Familiar.

Suddenly, a feeling of weightlessness came over me, and I was no longer below the doctor's waiting gaze. I was floating off to the side, now watching the doctor instead of being watched. He was focused on a little girl from whom I seemed to have exited, her brown eyes terrified.

The girl was young, maybe three, with long, blonde hair. Her wrists were strapped to the bed using the all famous Velcro straps, her small body barely filling the bed. She looked up at the doctor, small and scared. Her breathing was somewhat eratic, her heartbeat fast. She was nervous. And scared. Terrified.

I could so relate.

I watched as the man finally pulled his gaze from her and turned toward a table holding all of his surgical equipment. He pulled on some gloves, then asked a woman I hadn't noticed was standing there to ready the syringe. The little girl gulped nervously, pulling at her restraints as the nurse did as she was told, grabbing a needle and prepping it properly. The doctor grabbed a wipe and rubbed it over the little girl's arm, ignoring her cries and please.

At this point, I wanted to jump at the doctor and drop kick him for doing this to such a young girl. Then, I would have grabbed the syringe and injected the yellow liquid into both of them, half and half, and see what they thought about this.

Unfortunately, I couldn't move. I could only stand there and watch, my head pounding and my stomach clenching, as they put this little girl through indescribable torture.

And, trust me when I say this, far worse.

The nurse placed the syringe into the doctor's waiting hands, watching the girl wearily. The doctor knelt next to her, needle ready, trying to keep her steady as she squirmed and screamed, shying away from the sharp tip. I wanted to scream at her, tell her it was okay. That I would save her. But I couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but watch as the doctor shoved the needle into her awaiting muscle, injecting the yellow liquid into her system.

At first, nothing abnormal happened. She just continued to scream, pleading at them to stop. But I knew how this stuff works, and it didn't always take a second for effect.

Gradually, the little girl's screams came higher pitched, more hoarse. Her eyes went wide, her small fists clenched as sweat pored like tears down her body, her heartbeat racing at an unnatural level. She cried out for it to stop, for the doctor to make the pain stop, but he just stood there, watching with cold curiousity as the nurse took notes on her clipboard, glancing at the girl ever so often.

Just when I thought they would stop this, stop this experiment, the doctor took out another syringe filled with green liquid, prepping it briefly before injecting her in the same arm, the same muscle.

Is he crazy? I thought as she screamed louder, her eyes rolling in the back of her head, straining to get out from her restraints. The effect wasn't exactly desired, judging by the nurse's expression. She began to cunvulse, shaking dangerously in the bed, fists clenched so tightly her fingernails broke the skin, blood lightly flowing from her hand onto the bed. It was then the little girl began to choke, white, foamy creme bubbling out of her mouth, falling from the corners of her mouth and down her cheeks onto the pillow beneath. Think of it like that volcano experiment you did for the science fair, where you mix the baking soda and vinager to get it to errupt. Now imagine it a little thicker, like toothpaste, and coming out of her mouth. Now you understand what she was puking up. She tried to sit up, straining frantically against the restraints as she puked, trying not to choke and get it into her lungs.

Immediately, the doctor flipped the bed over, allowing her to puke freely, the cream splattering beneath her on the hard floor. The smell was nauseating, even to me, and it took everything in me not to let it all out right there. (Can you puke in a dream?) Then, the doctor grabbed yet another syringe -this one filled with white liquid- and shot it straight into her stomach, the long needle entering her completely before draining all of its contents into her and exiting. Within a minute, the little girl relaxed, her eyes fluttering shut as her ragid breathing calmed. The doctor left the bed flipped upside down for a few minutes before flipping her over, injecting her with a saline solution to keep her hydrated. The nurse scribbled quickly away, then finally clipped her pen shut and turned her attention to the doctor. "We almost lost her," she said, her voice fading as I felt myself floating away, slowly leaving this scene.

The doc looked at the little girl warrily. "Batcheldor will not be pleased," he quipped as the world turned black, sending me away from this nightmare.

The last thing I saw before waking was the little girl, numbers sewn into her gown:

10086

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

I snapped out of it in a shock, tears streaming down my cheeks, drenching my face. Nudge lay asleep in front of me, oblivious to what had just taken place in my head. The pain had melted down to a dull throb, the nausea beyond overwhelming. I jumped up, running to the bathroom and slamming he door, puking my guts up into the toilet.

For once, no one bothered me as I stood up shakily, flushing the technicolored chunks down and dropping the lid as I went and leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection. I turned on the water, splashing my face and brushing my teeth, getting the awful taste and smell out of my mouth. As I spit into the sink, the foamy paste reminded me too much of the girl's creamy vomit and I almost heaved again. Rinsing it down the drain, I turned off the water, staring at my reflection once more. My eyes were dull, empty, my face pale. I looked like a ghost, and I knew why.

That was at the School, the place where we had grown up, then ran from so long ago, and continue to run from now. That operating room was in the School. That doctor worked there. I knew that doctor. Dr. Steven Rodriguez, the whitecoat who had oversaw so many of our experiments. I knew him just about as well as I knew Jeb. What happened in my head actually happened.

But that wasn't the only thing that got me.

No, it was the girl: 10086. I knew her. Know her. Have known her my entire life.

That girl was... Is...

Me.

Bingo, Max, my Voice said, making me jump. Welcome back to the School.

That's it for now! Kind of cliff-hanger-ish. Hope you liked it! Please review!