Amber Eyes

Chapter 9

Chapter IX

     The room was bright, so white I couldn’t bear it. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut, but one thing stopped me. I saw my family, everyone standing inches away from me. My mother and father holding hands and smiling at me, Hannah, Rose and Candace also stood next to each other. Each with big bright smiles on there faces.

     For a moment I was shocked, my family all of them were here with me. A smile slowly crept across my face. My mother stepped towards me her hand out towards mine, offering me to take her hand. I looked down at my hands; no gloves were shoved onto them. I reached out towards my mother; I wanted to feel her existence. I stepped towards her my hand out but when I got inches from her hand I hesitated, my smile immediately faded and I looked down at my hands. What if I touched her and she disappeared? I didn’t want to hurt my mother.

     I looked at her face; she continued smiling at me with that brilliant smile of hers. It made me smile again her hand was still stretched out, wanting, waiting for mine. I softly set my hand onto hers my father walked up beside her smiled and took my other hand. My chest filled with pride, my parents both here, both in front of me, next to me, touching me, I knew they existed. Suddenly a gust of wind hit me; the bright lights dimmed and turned a dark gray. I looked into my parents eyes, both filled with worry. They dropped my hands and disappeared into a dark void of nothingness. I couldn’t reach them, couldn’t see them, tears streamed down my face. My heart felt heavy, like a giant hole had just been punched through it. I lay on the ground, curled into a ball and wept.

     I awoke from my terrible nightmare crouched in a ball, cold and wet. I touched my face, I had been crying in my sleep. My heart still felt heavy and broken. Suddenly a loud scream pierced though the walls of my room. I sat up immediately, the scream had been filled with such emotion, such pain, and it terrified me to think about what was happening outside of my room.     More screaming and shouting came from down the hall, I heard feet running in panic followed by quicker feet. Someone was trying to run away, but they weren’t fast enough. A terrible yell echoed through my room, then everything went silent. I pressed my body closer to the corner of my room, still crouched in a ball. I didn’t want to hear that person screaming, I didn’t want to feel the pain they were going through. I tucked my head into my legs trying to ignore the screams echoing through my head. Loud banging came from the other side of my door,  I jumped as the man who had taken me from the hospital the other day, walked into my room. He had sweat around his forehead and he was breathing heavily.

    “Get up,” he grumbled.

My body started to shake with fear; I stood up my stomach felt queasy and my legs unstable. I started to shuffle towards him.

    “Come on,” he yelled.

He was so big he took one step and was right by my side. He grabbed my shoulder and yanked me out of the room.

    “Where are you taking me?” I asked. After hearing that terrible screaming all I wanted to do was sit in the corner of my room and cry. At least I knew it was safe in there.

    “The doctors are ready to test you,” he said.

    My head became fuzzy, and my legs wobbled as if made of jello, my heart sank. This was it; I was done for, like whoever had been screaming. In minutes I was about to go through total pain too. Luckily my stomach grumbled and the man looked down at me. His tight grasp on my shoulder hurt. He rolled his eyes.

    “We’ll go see the doctors after you eat something.”

    He led me into another small room, although this room had more furniture. There were tables and chairs. He sat me down in a chair and told me to wait while he got my food. I did as he said and waited patiently, all the while thinking about what was going to happen to me after I ate. A boy around my age, with curly brown hair and dark eyes was marched into the room. Another scary looking man sat him down at a table and shoved something to eat towards him. I watched with caution, as the boy took the food and started to eat. He looked angry, and tired. Red bags formed under his eyes, he ate slowly, his face looked sweaty and weak. I wondered if he had been the one screaming. He looked up from his food and caught my eye; I immediately looked down at the table. I hadn’t remembered there being any other kids here when I was younger. Could this boy possibly have problems like mine?