A few day later~

Never had Anything taken so long, though in her dazed mind everything was now twirling and taking longer to process than usual and it was making her stomach churn in disgusting ways. Her head felt as though a bullet had clashed right through her head, but never reached the brain and instead remained lodged between a thick layer of skin and her skull. Suddenly, the urge to throw up became unbearable and she had to struggle to barely get up in order to allow the unusually frothy bile to escape her mouth in small jets at a time and into a small bowl like they have in hospitals, the taste and smell of sourness creeping into her system and hitting her right in the gut. As she continued to allow the mixture pour out of her throat, sudden realization got to her and she looked up and around the room she was in, certain she had finished. It was white, with blue curtains lazily drawn across the windows allowing in small specks of sunlight and a small cupboard on one side of the room, a 'get well soon' card placed upon it along with a bowl of fruit that seemed to have been fresh. Marina glanced down. No longer was she in her usual clothes. No longer was she in her usual state of fashion. No. She was different. Her usual up-high red hair was swiftly held back into a short ponytail-like mess whilst her clothes consisted of a dreary hospital gown that, in a way, relieved her as she got the idea of her whereabouts. "Hello," She called out into the emptiness,"Anyone here?". There came not a single answer. It's what she dubbed as the 'horror movie effect', as in it was eerily like a Walking Dead scenario or something straight out of some not-so original film.

Some place else at the same time~

Death and Despair. Death and Despair. The monotone hum of a phone began somewhere in the cramped caravan, waking a Slumbering Pete from whatever nightmares he was previously having. It stopped. A groan made its way out of the Goth's mouth as he slowly searched for the phone, still lying face down upon the caravans rather uncomfortable Sofa which was doubling as a bed for a while. After a moment of searching, his hand-made its way to the item they were trying to find, clutching around it and bringing it closer to Pete. He arose from the 'bed', wiping away a mixture of eye liner and sleep from his weary eyes. Just as he was about to fall back into his slumber, the phone within his hand began to sound again with its usual 'death and despair' ringtone.

"God damn it, what now..."

He read the screen. Michael. What the hell could he want at this time In the...oh...its almost 17:00pm...Quickly, he clicks the small icon on his phone, answering the call before Michael tried to ring him once again.

"Pete, where were you today?" Came the emotionless sound of Michael's voice as Pete listened to the phone.

"Sleeping, I guess?" This answer earns a momentary pause from the Older Goth.

"What do you Mean sleeping?"

"I just woke up...thanks..." Pete sighed, eager to go back to sleep.

"Well, Me and Henrietta were planning on going to village Inn for some coffee, Firkle is sick or something. But if Sleeping Beauty here needs his beauty sleep.." Abruptly, Michael was cut of as Pete interrupted, keen to not have someone's mocking be the first thing to wake up to on a day like this one.

"I'll go, whatever. I'll meet you guys there..." And at that note, Pete quickly hung up and clambered off the sofa that had given him some form of safety as he had slept. Oh, how he wished he could fall back to sleep. But no. Coffee could be the only non-conformist thing he could be bothered to drink at the moment and perhaps some goth conversation could be 'nice'. What was he thinking. Nice is something a conformist would call what they liked.

Back to Marina~

Even though she was hungry, she felt as though eating was out of the question for quite a whilst since she really didn't fancy the thought of having yet another fit of vomiting as she had used up all the bowls that hospitals supply in a single room in just under fifteen minutes. But, overall, she felt slighty better, though she hadn't accomplished her new goal. Standing. Cautiously, she placed her arms behind her and struggled to try and get up, but she couldn't. Then she noticed what she had failed to for quiet sometime. Wrapped tightly around her legs were the kind of plaster they used when someone had broken their leg, arm or any other kind of Injuring that Involved breaking a bone or two. The immense pain she was experiencing from her legs was previously nodded of by the thought of it being nothing more than the average sprain muscle. Now she knew she was dead wrong. She looked down at them, her eyes tearing up slightly as she tried to remember just what had happened to her; she couldn't remember at all. For all she knew, she could have tripped over and almost broken her leg or maybe she was hit, No, pushed in front of a car. Of course not, she shouldn't worry herself by thinking such nonsense.

Writers note:Sorry if this chapter isn't as good. It was kinda rushed in a one night time slot due to copious amounts of homework...

But thanks anyway for anyone that reads this. Chapter 3 should be here the day after tomorrow and should be much better than this one.