Elsewhere (ON HOLD)

C H A I

The first thing I saw was the white artificial light. "What....?" I whisper, looking around at my surroundings. I can't see. I look around at my blurred surroundings. Next to me is a white bedside table with my tortoiseshell-print glasses on it. I place them on my face and look around at my now clear view. The room is all white, windowless, and mostly bare; except for the white desk and white doorless cabinet, filled with white nightgowns, white cloth pants, white shirts and white converse. I myself is dressed in a pair of white pyjamas, a loose white top, and fitted white pants. How did they know my size?  I ask myself. There is a fluffy white dressing gown on the end of the queen size bed. It's so clean... Too clean... Then it hits me. I'm in someone's house. I scramble out of Bed and almost collide with a boy walking in through the door carrying a tray of pancakes topped with caster sugar and berries, and a glass of milk. He looks at me, mouth open. "Your... Awake?" He says slowly, a shocked expression plastered on his face. He's about my age.

"Where am I? I was in the motel room ready to die why am I here? How long have I been here for? What are you doing?  How did you find me? Where-" 

"Woah, Chai its ok, I found you in the motel and-" I cut him off

"How do you know my name?" I ask. Even though he pronounced it wrong, it's still 'my name'. And then I realise. He read my fucking diary. "You read my diary..." I say slowly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, but it's for the best!"

"Yeah, sure," I say bitterly, my face a stone-cold stare. 

"Sorry..." He says, looking slightly uncomfortable and embarrassed.

"So how long have I been here?"

"A month..."

"No, that's impossible!" I yell, my hands flailing wildly at my sides. "Then where am I?" 

"Look... I'm not really the person to tell you that... Um... Pancakes?" He says hopefully. It is then that I realise how hungry I am. "Fine..." I manage. He starts to give me the tray. "But, you must tell me why I'm here and what's happening. The truth." He nods and I take the tray. I move to sit on the bed.  I tuck into the pancakes. They are light fluffy and sweet. Perfect, in fact. 

-+-

I finish the pancakes in less than five minutes and hand the tray to the mysterious man. I shrug on the white dressing gown and he leads me out of my room and down the stairs. It was a rather modern house, with white walls and marble floors. A large kitchen to my left, and a relaxed-looking living room to my right. In the kitchen, 2 women and another man were sitting at a birch wood table, mugs full of supposed coffee in front of them. The pancake dude cleared his throat, seeking attention. The people at the table turned to look at him, and the younger woman's mouth opened in astonishment. The older woman spoke first. " Chai y-you're awake!" She stutters. She had cropped brown-grey hair and deep blue eyes. "Yes..." I manage. 

"Um- well- um I'm Cecily!" She says enthusiastically a smile plastered to her face. "And this-" She says pointing to the younger woman. "Is Emmie, And this-" She points at the man. "Is Jacques." Jacques smiles and waves. "And I trust Burke has already introduced himself?" She says. "Um... Haha..." Burke laugh nervously. "Well, no actually. I'm Burke." He stutters. I sigh. "So, where am I and what is going on? Burke said you guys would tell me." I stare them down. "For god's sake Burkey really? You said that?" Emmie accuses, her hands gesturing wildly.

"Um... Maybe?" Burke offers.

"That's ok Ems. We can tell Chai." Cecily says calmly.

"So, are you going to tell me?" I ask. Jacques sighs and opens his mouth to speak.

"We're just on the outskirts of Manchester. This is my old house. We left just before it happened and stayed in Emmie's family's country cottage for a while, then decided to come back after it had all cooled down." He takes a sip from his mug.

"Manchester..." I whisper. "But I was in Ipswich..." I'm so confused. Why did they go all the way to Ipswich? "Our cottage is in Ipswich." Says Burke lamely, as if reading my thoughts. "We were going to stay in the motel for a night, and we found you. You were still breathing so we wrapped you up in all of our backup blankets and hot packs and we got you back here a week later." He walks over to the fridge and grabs a pitcher of juice. "Orange juice?" He offers. 

"I'll pass," I say. These people seem nice enough, and there is nowhere else for me to go so I might as well stay with them. "You want a shower?" Cecily offers "Or a bath?"

"That would be great." I smile, then follow Cecily up the stairs.