For a good laugh, google: buzzfeed brothers convince sister of zombie apocalypse
I died. Seriously. Ded.
The world is spinning. Everything is so blurry. Day becomes night and the ceiling is where the floor once was. Hands grab at my flailing arms as I cry out with what little air is left in my lungs. Whispered words blow across my cheek, and I wince at the heat, pushing at his shoulders in panic.
"Wendy," he says, gathering me into his arms, my heart racing with each closed inch. "Breathe."
I shake my head. Not at his instructions to inhale. Or his even his much-to-close proximity. But at my body's internal debate. Do I hold him just like he holds me? Or do I push him away because he's one of them?
"Let me go, doctor."
His words are sharp, cutting through my hesitation with their edge. "Don't call me that."
"You're just like them." Manipulating. Fake. Secretive. All these words stuck at the tip of my tongue.
"I'm not. Please listen." He begs, his arms shaking, but not enough for me to pull away. His strength never wavers.
"Isabella," he tries again, almost whimpering at my indifference. "Please."
"Don't call me that." That name. That horrible name. It's reserved for my father. My mother. The orderlies. My doctor…
He rubs his forehead against my shoulder. Or maybe it's his tears. Because he leaves behind a tiny wet spot in the beige. But why would he be crying? What is it that makes him so sad? "Please listen to me, Wendy. You did before."
"I didn't know any better!"
His harsh breath overheat my neck and I desperately want to swat at him, but his arms are too tightly woven around me, trapping me close to his body so that there's no room to escape.
"Doc!" Rosalie runs into the room so fast the door bounces against the wall, the resulting bang making both of us jump. His hold loosens enough where I'm able to jump away. He watches in despair before burying his face in his hands just long enough to wipe any remaining wetness away before facing the intruder with a sharp look.
"What is it, Rosalie?"
"Esme!" She points down the hall. "Evenson has her!"
He's on his feet and running faster than I can react, and after a few hurried breaths, I chase after him. Curiosity spikes in me, and if I'm completely honest with myself, how he left without even a glance back at me, hurts more than I could have imagined. Rosalie grabs at my arm as I pass; her blue eyes furious, and I know she didn't miss anything.
"Don't you dare hurt him." She thrusts me from her, and I only see the end of her hair whip away by the time I get my bearings.
I follow their hurried footsteps down the hall, the screams ringing louder and louder in my ear. The closer I get, the more distinct they become. Jane Jolie's echo from somewhere else in the prison. But Esme's hone in clearly, penetrating through a swinging door in Wing F.
She's bent over the bed, her pants pulled down to her knees. The orderly tries to push her face into the mattress, but she fights with swinging arms and legs. "Shut the fuck—"
Edward grabs him. Surprise is evident on the orderly's face before it's smacked off by Edward's fist. "Evenson! You bastard!"
One. Two. Three. That's all Edward gets in before the orderly reacts. His face is a bruised mess, blood smeared across his cheek and Edward's knuckles. He blocks Edward's next punch, giving one of his own. I lurch forward at the way Edward's body is thrown to the side, but he recovers quickly, his fist going in for more.
"Masen, you just keep making things harder for yourself."
"Fuck you, Evenson!"
Rosalie pulls me away as the two men tumble into the hall. Patients veer off in different directions, their screams following them as they run. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
Esme pulls at her pants as she crawls on the floor. I go to help her, my efforts ignored as she quickly slithers along the linoleum to the locked door. She presses her cheek to the wood, rubbing her tears onto the surface. Rosalie drops to her knees, wrapping her arms around Esme's shaking shoulders.
The door rumbles, guttural screams of anger and pounding fists, yelling to be freed. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"
Esme grabs at my hand. "Help him? Won't you please help him?"
