Crazy is the Name of My Game

(20) I am trapped.

Erica Santos

To say I was flabbergasted would be an understatement.

I was shaking all over -- either from the shock or the terror, I couldn't tell. Maybe a little of both. Maybe more. It was as if I was in a nightmare and my body had gone from numb to number, if that made any sense.

Things happened too fast. One minute I was being attacked, and then in another, I witnessed the unearthly sight of the male nurses being dragged by an unseen force, only to be left unconscious on the floor.

The drugs, perhaps? Yes. It had to be the drugs.

"Eri...Erica, are you... all right?"

I turned towards the silhouette of the winded guy by the door. Even in the darkness, I recognized Len's lean but muscular frame. That alone snapped me back to reality.

"Y-You?" There was bitterness in my voice as hurt lashed through my chest like fiery whips. The image of him kissing Jen flashed in red before my eyes. All my muscles knotted themselves in an attempt to reduce the pain.

"Come on, Erica," he huffed as he turned on the lights. I was momentarily blinded, but my eyes quickly adjusted. This couldn't be happening. Was I hallucinating? That couldn't be possibly him. I mean, he just ultimately broke my respect to the male race. He's egoistic, a jerk, a liar, an ass. A complete package ready to be delivered to hell.

He couldn't be here.

I'm most likely overdosed. With the painkillers. Or I did hit my head hard.

I think I'm having an out of this world experience right now.

"We need to get out of here," my figment of imagination spoke in Len's smooth and warm voice, the kind that is soothing to hear, not the harsh, cold one that mocked me endlessly in my head.

"What --?"

There was urgency in his voice. "They're here for you. You need to get away."

"Who's here...? Why do I...?"

With sudden clarity, I understood the danger. These men pretending to be nurses... they were the ones after me. They've found me and almost got me. And I've been freakily dumb not to realize sooner.

I am definitely blaming the drugs for these.

Len strode towards me and pulled me up. I quickly tossed aside my hypothesis of him being an illusion. He's real and he's here. And he saved me again.

When I staggered a step, I realized that my whole body had gone marshmallow. I couldn't feel my legs or any of my arms for that matter. As much as I wanted to deny it, I was scared. My reluctant savior’s grip tightened around my trembling hands.

"Adams," I started, but watching him this close ripped the fibers of my already wounded heart. I could feel it bleeding inside me, crying tears at the betrayal I never imagined existed outside novels.

He appeared to have run all the way here. His hair was wind-swept and in disarray, his mouth twitching in distress. His green eyes were crazed with worry, wild and restless as he watched me and the two men on the floor.

It didn't make sense.

"Thank the spirits you're unharmed," he whispered with intense relief, but there was something scary about the tone he used. Goosebumps appeared on my arms.

I tried speaking again, "I don't want your sympathy or your --"

"Are you hurt?"

I shook my head. My voice came out nothing more than a whisper. "I'm fine. What on earth are you doing here?"