thing holding me
to this world.
“HELLO?”
A distant voice calls to
me. It’s faint and muted to the point where I can barely hear it. I strain my
ears, desperate to be closer to the woman trying to bring me back from what I’m
almost certain is near death.
“Can you hear me?” she
asks.
I reach for her.
I don’t want this.
I don’t want to die.
I want to wake up.
My eyelids twitch open.
Everything is clouded, and I wince against the bright light dangling overhead.
All at once, a feeling of panic rushes through me. It’s too similar, too
reminiscent of the DSD.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
I don’t want this.
I want to wake up.
I want to go home .
Do I, though? I ask myself.
I think of my mother. I
think of her betrayal.
No. Home is no longer an
option.
I have nowhere else to go.
“She’s awake.”
I hesitate before opening
my eyes again. The light isn’t as harsh this time, but it still takes several
moments for the fog hindering my eyesight to clear enough to see. When it does,
I find the woman responsible for saving my life leaning over me. She’s
beautiful, with tanned skin and long brown hair that falls neatly down her
back. Large chocolate eyes gaze into mine with a kindness shining behind them
that seems alien to me.
She exhales when our eyes
meet—a sigh that, strangely enough, seems like one of relief.
The sound of footsteps
distracts me, coming from the other side of what appears to be a storeroom. I
look around, blinking against the blinding glare of the light. Another person
steps into my limited range of vision, but all I can make out is a black
silhouette.
As everything comes into
focus, and my eyes fully adjust, I’m able to see the face of the person staring
down at me.
I’m able to see the face of
Ezra Laramie.
“It’s time to talk,” he
says.
I try to sit up, to move
into a less vulnerable position than the one I’m in now. The woman rushes
forward, wrapping her hands around my shoulders in an effort to help me.
“Careful,” she murmurs.
“You’re still weak.”
My head spins as I
straighten up. I press the heel of my hand against my right temple, hoping to
ease the dizziness attempting to drag me back down.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Where am I?” I shake my head once before glancing between them.
A soft laugh rumbles in
Ezra's throat. “Someplace where no one will find you,” he answers.
The woman flashes him an
annoyed look. “You lost a lot of blood and blacked out,” she explains, keeping
her voice level and calm. “Do you remember?”
My wrist aches at the mere
mention of everything I’ve been through, and all too quickly, I remember what
I’ve done. I glance down at my arm, trying to piece together the fragmented
memory of what happened at The Vega . I remember finding Ezra, but the
extent of our conversation after that is one big blur.
I recall enough to know how
it ended, though. After all, it’s obvious by the way he looks at me.
My lips part, and I’m about
to answer her when the door bangs open, and a third person bounds into the
room. Ezra and the woman both turn away from me at the same moment, clearly as
taken aback by this interruption as I am. My heart begins to race, but
curiosity gets the best of me. I lean to the side, peering around them to get a
better look at the newcomer.
Messy black hair frames the
face of the man standing in front of us. Wide, childlike eyes stare back into
mine, and I notice his lips twist with the slightest trace of a smile. His
expression is startling—mainly because it’s the complete opposite of what I
expected to find here.
“Is that her?” he asks,
nodding toward me.
Ezra scowls at him, and
grunts, “Hey, I thought I told you to stay out of this.”
“And miss all the
excitement?” A mischievous grin flashes across the man’s face.
I watch their exchange with
both fascination and bewilderment. Are these people really members of
PHOENIX? Of the renowned terrorist
to this world.
“HELLO?”
A distant voice calls to
me. It’s faint and muted to the point where I can barely hear it. I strain my
ears, desperate to be closer to the woman trying to bring me back from what I’m
almost certain is near death.
“Can you hear me?” she
asks.
I reach for her.
I don’t want this.
I don’t want to die.
I want to wake up.
My eyelids twitch open.
Everything is clouded, and I wince against the bright light dangling overhead.
All at once, a feeling of panic rushes through me. It’s too similar, too
reminiscent of the DSD.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
I don’t want this.
I want to wake up.
I want to go home .
Do I, though? I ask myself.
I think of my mother. I
think of her betrayal.
No. Home is no longer an
option.
I have nowhere else to go.
“She’s awake.”
I hesitate before opening
my eyes again. The light isn’t as harsh this time, but it still takes several
moments for the fog hindering my eyesight to clear enough to see. When it does,
I find the woman responsible for saving my life leaning over me. She’s
beautiful, with tanned skin and long brown hair that falls neatly down her
back. Large chocolate eyes gaze into mine with a kindness shining behind them
that seems alien to me.
She exhales when our eyes
meet—a sigh that, strangely enough, seems like one of relief.
The sound of footsteps
distracts me, coming from the other side of what appears to be a storeroom. I
look around, blinking against the blinding glare of the light. Another person
steps into my limited range of vision, but all I can make out is a black
silhouette.
As everything comes into
focus, and my eyes fully adjust, I’m able to see the face of the person staring
down at me.
I’m able to see the face of
Ezra Laramie.
“It’s time to talk,” he
says.
I try to sit up, to move
into a less vulnerable position than the one I’m in now. The woman rushes
forward, wrapping her hands around my shoulders in an effort to help me.
“Careful,” she murmurs.
“You’re still weak.”
My head spins as I
straighten up. I press the heel of my hand against my right temple, hoping to
ease the dizziness attempting to drag me back down.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Where am I?” I shake my head once before glancing between them.
A soft laugh rumbles in
Ezra's throat. “Someplace where no one will find you,” he answers.
The woman flashes him an
annoyed look. “You lost a lot of blood and blacked out,” she explains, keeping
her voice level and calm. “Do you remember?”
My wrist aches at the mere
mention of everything I’ve been through, and all too quickly, I remember what
I’ve done. I glance down at my arm, trying to piece together the fragmented
memory of what happened at The Vega . I remember finding Ezra, but the
extent of our conversation after that is one big blur.
I recall enough to know how
it ended, though. After all, it’s obvious by the way he looks at me.
My lips part, and I’m about
to answer her when the door bangs open, and a third person bounds into the
room. Ezra and the woman both turn away from me at the same moment, clearly as
taken aback by this interruption as I am. My heart begins to race, but
curiosity gets the best of me. I lean to the side, peering around them to get a
better look at the newcomer.
Messy black hair frames the
face of the man standing in front of us. Wide, childlike eyes stare back into
mine, and I notice his lips twist with the slightest trace of a smile. His
expression is startling—mainly because it’s the complete opposite of what I
expected to find here.
“Is that her?” he asks,
nodding toward me.
Ezra scowls at him, and
grunts, “Hey, I thought I told you to stay out of this.”
“And miss all the
excitement?” A mischievous grin flashes across the man’s face.
I watch their exchange with
both fascination and bewilderment. Are these people really members of
PHOENIX? Of the renowned terrorist
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