The Changing

Chapter THIRTY THREE

Scar's P.O.V
'Dad?' My dad was in my mom's living room, but how could that be possible since he's dead.

"Hey sweetie. Are you okay? You don't look too well..." He placed his hand on my forhead feeling my body temperature.

"I uh I'm fine. I just think I'm going to go take a nap... I'm a little tired." I said starting to walk away...

"So you don't want to go driving? Come on I'll take you." He begged.

I never had the chance to drive with my father when he was alive. Even if this was a dream I wanted to imagine it. So I was driving and having a blast suddenly everything went black ...

The blur in my vision started to clear. I opened my eyes and took in that I was in a dungeon like setting. I forgot I got kidnapped, Again. This was getting old. The first thing I did was look for where the chains were located on my body... My hands were chained above my head and to the wall. My legs were just dangaling... I looked around to see if I was alone, I wasn't. There was a man, in the same position as me. His head was facing the floor, from what I could tell he was middle aged. He had a black beard, seems like he has been here for a while. I ignored his existence and tried to yank the chains out of the wall.

"There's no point." The man said, he still did not look at me. "I've already tried."

"No offense but you look kind of melnurished. So I think I'm going to try." I regarded his appearance. It was oddly familiar but different.

"I've been down here for four, almost five years. It won't work." The man spoke again, this time with a little more energy. "Stop making so much noise."

"Listen I have a friend in need of help. I need to get out of here. So I'm going to do as well as I god damn please." The man chuckled at what I was saying. "What?"

"Nothing you just remind me of my children. They're all so feisty..." For the first time the man turned his head in my direction. "What's your name ki..." The old man froze mid sentence.

My eyes opened wider. This isn't possible. My father. The man was my father, Roy Henry McDonald.

"I must be dreaming. This is a dream. You aren't here. You're dead." I closed my eyes forcing them to stay shut.