Bring Me to Life

Chapter 7

The silence echoed in the shadowy room, no one daring to move until Allia howled.

“NO!”

Burying her head into her hands, everything she had been holding back flowed out of her. The tears ran down and drenched her hospital gown, and she screamed and rattled the bars, and they groaned and creaked.

“No, no, no, no, no! Jaymi!” she shrieked like a banshee, throwing her head back as far as it could go. The bars of the adolescent’s cage bent and bowed more, due to her suppressed superstrength.

She sagged forward, with her head on her thighs, fists pounding the floor of her iron confinement; making dents. Finally her cries and tears subsided into shudders and dry gasps. Using what was left of her strength, she slowly pushed herself upright, with her head angled down, and snowy hair curtaining her face.

With a Satanic expression, her neck inclined upwards with a devilish smile.

“Jaymi... I know you’re just kidding around. You’re not really dead, right? Jaymi?” she said psychotically. But those empty eyes of his stared back at her, peering into the abyss of nothingness that was named death.

Allia reached her hand forward as much as she could, pressing herself against the bars. “Jaymi?” she whispered, wrapping her hand around his cold bloody one. She trailed her hand up his arm to his fluffy hair. Gently she stroked his head, not wanting to wake him from this infinite slumber.

 “Please Jaymi, wake up. Please don’t leave me here. I’m alone without you...” she murmured, dropping her arm and giving up.

”Please...don’t leave me here."

He was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it. Ever since I came here, I’d known nothing but pain.

But I would rather have a thousand days’ worth of physical torture than one more minute of that mental monstrosity. I clenched my teeth and fists, refusing to weep any more. It wasn't like it would help.

Clenching my hand tighter and tighter, it began to feel slippery and sticky. I held out my hand to see a small half-moon of blood in my palm, made from my fingernails. When I extended it, it made a path down my arm. When I shuddered slightly, another drop slid out and mimicked the path of the first.

Once that path is made, it's followed subsequently by everything else.

The doctor’s path was to examine us, and they follow that path. The specimen’s path was to spend life in confinement and accept torture. I was tired of this path. I was going to make my own path. He would have wanted it. I swore on my life, I would get out of there. Even if it killed me.

For Jaymi.