Author's note: Again, sorry for the long wait. End of the year stuff takes up a lot of time. Finally done w high school!

Chapter 6

Emma jolts awake, her shoulder colliding painfully with the cold stone floor. She is lying on her side, the cold from the floor seeping in through her thin sweatshirt, something she's worn to bed every night for nearly ten years, a threadbare thing that brings back many painful memories, but nevertheless a garment that she can't bring herself to give away.

Her cheek is wet. Tentatively, she brings her hand up to her face, rubbing gently, and then into her line of vision, fully expecting to see it covered in blood. But there is nothing. She must've been crying in her sleep. Again.

Emma cannot shake the strange feeling that someone she cares about is in pain. That the tears are unrelated to some random dream about her awful past. She feels a deep sadness, a sadness that is seeping in her bones. Loneliness, fear, and abandonment. Three emotions that are pulsing through her, yet there is no reason why they should. She feels someone out there, calling out for her, begging for her to return. Someone that she yearns to alleviate the pain of, to take in her arms and embrace tightly. To protect. This physically pains her. But that is just ridiculous. Who in the world does she care about? And more importantly, who in the world cares about her?

Rubbing her tender shoulder, she sits up slowly, taking in her surroundings. Where in the hell is she? The first thing she notices is the light. The light seeping in from the skylights overhead. Since when does her room have skylights? She has never been very picky about sleep, having slept in so many different places throughout the course of her life. But the one thing she has always insisted on is sleeping in a completely dark room. Whether it was creating a fort with blankets or a makeshift blindfold, Emma has never been able to sleep with light present.

Therefore, the light that is currently burning her retinas is alerting her to the fact that she is not safe in her own bed. Well, that and the stone floor that's digging into her spine. She shifts, wincing at her sore ass, wishing that her sleep shorts weren't so thin. Or short.

Emma looks around, squinting in the harsh morning sun. She is in what appears to be a guest room. It might've been grandiose once, but time has worn it down. The curtains are covered with dust, and the four poster bed, with its velvet duvet, is split down the middle by a fallen tree. Soot and other debris litter the marble floor.

Right. She is in what she has dubbed Bizzaro World. The place that looks like something straight out of a fairytale. A storybook. So it hadn't been a dream. Emma briefly remembers stumbling around for hours, lost. After that tall blond guy, the one that everyone called…Donald, or was it David, failed so miserably at his speech, the nun Neal told to keep an eye on her turned away to calm the angered crowd, and Emma had seized that as a chance to run. To clear her head, to get some air, to regroup. To just be alone. The day's events had been nothing short of tumultuous, with Neal's reappearance, this strange place, and all the unfamiliar people who kept acting as though they knew her, as though she should know them. Heavy with exhaustion and confusion, she'd collapsed here and fallen asleep, while praying that when she woke up, she'd be home in her bed.

She reaches for the hair tie she always keeps around her wrist and gathers her blonde locks into a sloppy knot. Her stomach growls. The need for food overshadows her desire to stay hidden in this room. Shivering in the cold morning (at least she thinks its morning) air, she tiptoes out of the room and into what appears to be a hallway.

The hallway is long, the cavernous ceiling held up by gray stone poles. Poles that are badly cracked in many places, broken windows, debris everywhere. Emma can tell that this place was once beautiful, but not anymore. She is grateful for her socks as she continues down the hall, as the floor is rather cold. There is obviously no heating in this place. In fact, she doesn't remember seeing any sign of electricity or technology, for that matter, anywhere. Granted, she was probably way too drunk to remember anything, but as she walks down the hall, swiveling her head from side to side, the only sources of light are lanterns. Or rather…were, for the lanterns are now useless, for the glass is broke. She attributes this to whatever damaged the rest of this place. Maybe the storm or earthquake or whatever it was destroyed everything. But wouldn't there be some sign of technology, albeit broken? As she walks down the hallway, she sees no cell phones, iPods, stereos, or TVs. Nothing.

It is eerily silent, a far cry from the chaos of yesterday. Emma wonders where everyone else went. Maybe there's just no one in her wing of this place, as she can tell that this building is huge. As she continues down the hall, she begins to hear a growing roar. A roar that is unmistakably the many voices of a crowd. She follows the voices, motivated by her growling stomach. The last thing she wants is to be near people, especially those people again, but she has no choice. She needs to figure out a way out of this place and that cannot be done on an empty stomach.

Ok, here's the plan, Emma. She tells herself. I'll just go in, grab some food, and get out. They have to have something, right?

The sounds of the growing voices lead her to the same hall as yesterday. Emma flattens herself against the wall and peeks out. The room looks better, for it seems as though some of the debris has been cleared away. There is a long table, covered with platters of food. People are milling around, occasionally grabbing food from the table. Makeshift tents are set up around the room, and it appears as though some people (Emma recognizes the brunette dressed in red from yesterday) are ordering others around. Though there is still a general undercurrent of chaos and frustration in the crowd, it is better than yesterday. Maybe that David guy got everyone to calm down.

Looking from side to side, Emma determines that her path is clear. No one is looking her way. Without another thought, she sprints from her hiding place, her eyes fixed on that table. She is faced by the weirdest looking assortment of food she's ever seen. There are heaping plates of what appears to be some sort of…meat? She cautiously sniffs it, and recoils in horror. It does not smell like chicken, or pork, or beef, or even lamb. She has no idea what this is. Better not try it. Emma continues down the table. The majority of the food is unrecognizable.

She pokes at some of the meat, debating whether or not to take it. Food is food, after all. And she has been standing here long enough, out in the open, at the risk of being seen.

Bread. She recognizes a loaf of bread. Though it is a strange color, bread is bread. With a sigh of relief, Emma heaps as much bread as she can into her arms, stuffing into the kangaroo pocket of her sweatshirt, up her sleeves, and wherever she has space. Spotting bunches of grapes sitting on a different plate, she takes some of that too. And several round colored objects that she thinks are similar to peaches. This is no doubt one of the strangest meals she's ever seen, but her growling stomach prevents her from questioning too much.

Satisfied with the amount of food she's procured, Emma turns to go, but runs straight into someone. The loaves of bread, grapes, and peaches tumble from her arms, thumping on the ground. Great. She immediately bends down and starts collecting her food, wanting nothing more than to get out of here as fast as she can. Whoever it is she bumped into begins to help her. They both straighten up, and he hands her back her food. She is aware of how ridiculous she looks, with this many loaves of bread.

"Thanks." She says awkwardly, hoping to cut him off before he says anything.

She looks up and straight into the eyes of that guy. David.


"Emma." He stutters. "I-it's you." He reaches out like he is about to hug her, but Emma immediately steps away.

"How do you know my name?" She cannot help but snap. There is something about this guy that emanates a creepy vibe. The way that he leans protectively into her. The searching way he stares at her with longing, like he's trying to memorize her face. Is there a history between them? Her gut is telling her no, that he is a pervy freak, but something about him draws her to him.

"Oh, I…um." He is obviously grasping for words as he looks down. Emma crosses her arms and levels him with a stare. It is the same stare that has helped her so much with her job as a bail bondswoman. An intimidating stare that sends most creeps running. And it works, for David backs away a bit.

"I heard someone say it." He says finally, but Emma can tell he is lying. Her lie detecting ability has always been foolproof.

"Righttttt". Emma draws the word out, disbelief oozing as she rolls her eyes. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have plenty of things to do." She tries to edge around him, but he blocks her path.

"Wait." David says. "I know this may sound weird, but…do you remember me?"

"No." Emma answers immediately. "Why would I? I've never seen you before in my life." She turns to go again, but yet again he is in her way. She stomps her foot in frustration. "Would you move so I can get past?" Emma knows that she is being extremely rude, but cannot help it. Rudeness is her first line of defense against creeps.

This guy's earnestness and eagerness strikes her as someone that she can trust, but she has dealt with enough two faced people in her life to know that nothing is as it seems. No matter how trustworthy someone may seem, they may end up betraying her. Emma has learned this the hard way, so she prefers to keep her distance.

"Please." David stops her with a hand on her arm. "J-just humor me. Do I look familiar to you at all?"

Emma softens. She stares at him and tries to remember. She really does. David seems really desperate, and she can relate. The desperation written on his face is something that she's experienced countless times. She tries to recall any place she could've seen this man. Bars, restaurants, the subway, work, the streets. But the longer she stares at his face, his features blurring together as she nearly goes cross eyed, she finds that she really, truly does not know who this guy is. There is a vague, fleeting memory of protectiveness, but as fast as it appeared, it is gone.

"Sorry." She whispers. "I have no idea who you are."

David's face falls, and Emma can see the beginnings of tears brimming in his eyes. The color is startlingly familiar, a color that she is sure she sees every day, but she cannot place it.

"It's fine." He tries to smile. "I-I'm sorry to have disturbed you." He looks like he is about to say something, like he is about to reach out and touch her, but he stops himself.

"I'm sorry." Emma repeats, shooting him a hopeful smile. Suddenly, she has this feeling that she can trust this man. That he is a good person. Which is crazy, since she does not know him. "I hope you find…whatever it is you're looking for." As she walks away, her loaves of bread tucked in her arms, she looks back. He is standing there, a look of broken despair on his face. A pang of sadness crosses her, though she cannot imagine why.

Author's note: What did y'all think? Can I ask for 10 reviews? 10 reviews and I'll update by next Mon!