Escaped [On Hold]

Hospital

When John woke up, and his first thought was of George. He tried to sit up, but he immediately fell back onto the bed, hissing in pain. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked over to the movement and saw a blurred feminine figure. He couldn't see that far, which wasn't a normal thing for him.

"Why is everything really blurry? Did they give me something that could cause that?" John asked the figure.

"No." The figure answered in an obviously voice. "Blurry vision probably means that you will need to get glasses once you get out of hear."

"Oh." John answered, not really having anything else to say.

"I should probably tell them that you are awake." The figure said, walking to where John assumed the door was, then stopped for a second. "I'm Paul by the way."

"I'm John." John offered as Paul was leaving.

The blurry figures of doctors came in and did their thing, and were soon followed by the blurred figures of the police.

"What's your name sir? First and last name please." The officer asked.

"John Lennon." He answered.

"What do you remeber about your captor or captors?" John was asked

"I know that their first names where Pete and Ivan. They said that they were working for a famous political person, that he was going to use finding us as some sort of stunt to help him with some sort of gain or something." John started. The officer was writing everything down.

"Do you know the name of the person they were hired by?" The officer asked.

"No, but they set me up with his daughter, Cynthia. Do you need me to tell you what they looked like?" John asked the officer.

"That would be great, one second John." The officer said before leaving the room briefly. The officer returned with another blurry figure. "This is out sketch artist. You will describe Pete and Ivan, and he will draw them. Since we heard that your vision is now bad, we will ask your friend, George, if we have the drawings are accurate."

"Is George alright?" John asked.

"He's perfectly fine John. He woke up a couple hours ago." The officer answered.

"Okay." Answered John, then he started describing Pete and Ivan. "Pete has grey hair that went down as far as the middle of his ear. He has a receding hairline, round face, grey mustache, down-turned blue eyes, and a small nose. Ivan has dark hair, no facial hair other than his eyebrows, high cheek bones, pointed ears, and a bit of a receding hairline too. They're both about average height, and Pete is on the rounder side."

"Thank you for your cooperation John." The officer said and started to leave the room with the sketch artist.

"Wait!" John called, and they stopped. "Do you know when my mom is going to get here?"

"I'm sorry John." The officer said. "She passed away nine years ago."

John didn't say anything. He didn't even react. He had to process the information. The only reason, other than George, as to why he escaped, was dead.

"How?" He asked, voice trembling.

"An off duty, drunk police officer hit her as she walked home. I'm so sorry." The officer apologised as the hot tears streamed down John's face.

John let out a scream of pain and loss. This hurt far more than the bullets. This felt far worse than all the pain he had experienced combined. This was the worst kind of pain imaginable.