Take Me Away | ✔️

30. AMELIA

MAX HELD ME while we were sleeping at my own small bed when the gunshots echoed inside the cabin. He immediately told me to make sure to stay inside the room, grabbed his gun on his waistband, and walked out, making sure to lock the door behind him. I shook in fear of being taken by the people he said that would eventually get to me, in fear of someone harming him, and in fear of seeing who those people are.

          There isn't much that I remember for the past... I don't know actually how long I've been here. As he said, it was for the best that I didn't know anything. All I know right now is that Max is my boyfriend and Fringe, our protector, was my friend.

          The door busted open with a loud bang, I knew that it had been shot at to get it open. From the light that came across the hall outside, it was swarming with men wearing some type of uniform but that didn't fix my focus onto. It was the two people in front of me—a man and an older woman. Possibly mother and son.

          There was something in their eyes that seemed to reoccur to me but it was at the tip of my tongue and I couldn't seem to quite get what it was.

          "Sam!" The man, all with his bulkiness through the uniform, ran towards me but I was fast enough to back away and reach the corner of the room.

          I'm pressed against walls filled with blood. No, it's just red painted walls. That's all that they are. Red paint.

          The woman pressed her hand on her shoulder, forcing him to back away from me. Yes, that's right. Don't come near me. "She doesn't recognize you. Look at her, Alex, she's scared of us. When she saw us, she ran away. That's not like her. At the very least, she should've fought her way out of this but she didn't. We found her too late."

          The man was confused and at the same time angry as he looked at the woman. "What the hell are we going to do?"

          Weirdly enough, the red paint was turning black.

          She shook her head at him. "I know you're not going to like this but you have to throw her over your shoulder."

          Now the streaks of the paint were turning spots.

          "Mom!" He hissed. "Sam doesn't like those things. It makes her feel helpless."

          The room is spinning.

          "Exactly," she answered. "This isn't Sam. This person is different from her. Now, do what I ordered you to do."

          Before I could scream, my eyes closed and I never felt the impact of my head crashing on the floor.

When I awoke, I found myself surrounded by people arguing about something incoherent. The light was blinding—so blinding that I raised my hand to cover my eyes. That seemed to stop them talking. The room smelled of flowers, fruits, and that distinct scent of an hospital.

          Hospital.

          I pulled myself up. Well, tried to but failed from the pain of my whole face and body. My head had hurt, it felt like someone was hammering my brain front the inside out. Everything felt swollen and bandaged.

          They took me.

          "Hey, you need to lay down," hands from a man with round green eyes and a mop of blonde hair were placed on my shoulders lightly. "Sam, go lie down."

          My brows furrowed, as fear grabbed me by the throat. "What? I'm not Sam. I'm Amelia. Get your hands off me! You're here to hurt me! You all here are here to hurt me!"