I watched as Grey surveyed the grotesque scene around him. It must have looked...interesting. The shattered mirrors where I was sitting, the doctor with a shard of glass in his eye; it’s a lovely picture right? It looked as though I had stepped into a horror novel. He came over and helped me up.
“You stay over here.” He said, whispering in my ear. I nodded cautiously and he turned to Doctor Farrows.
“And you are...?” he asked, standing in front of the doctor with a scowl on his face. Farrows smirked.
“My name is Doctor Dylan Farrows.” He said with a slight chuckle.
I glared at him with a burning intensity from where I was standing. I felt like crying. Why was I so stupid? I thought. I came out into the open, practically into his hands. I didn’t even take something for protection! I watched in silence as Farrows stood up. He had removed the glass from his eye, and was practically unaffected by the injury. There was no blood or juices to be found. It was as if it had never happened in the first place.
“Damn...” I muttered under my breath.
I focused on the fight. As they fought, my vision started to blur, like it had when I was poisoned. I struggled to keep watching. I was focused enough to see Grey pull out some kind of knife and point it at Farrows.
“I’ve got you...” he said.
In a single moment, he flew through the air, as if he had been no more than a doll. There was a loud crack as he hit the floor. I felt anger surge through me. He was hurting this guy for the mere reason that he was helping me. I stood up, grabbing a sharp piece of glass. I would help to protect Grey. Farrows was busy laughing at Grey’s unconscious body to notice me sneak up and stab him in the back. He cried out and whipped around. He grabbed my wrist and pressed me against a wall in such a way that I couldn’t move. I glared at him as he smirked at my misfortune. In an act of courage or stupidity, I spat on his face. He wiped the saliva off of his face with a quick brush.
“Now there.” He said. “I think we’re going to have to block off that nasty mouth of yours now don’t we?”
I shuddered as he placed his lips on mine. They were cold and hard. It was torture. I felt a searing pain rush through my head. It’s nothing... I thought. I felt it again, but stronger. Screwing my eyes shut, I tried to block out the pain. It wasn’t doing much, but it helped to calm me down, and it kept me from looking at the face of Dylan Farrows. I opened my eyes again, and found myself in a grassy field by myself. What’s happening? I thought, looking around. I could hear laughter. I looked behind me. There were two kids. They seemed to be setting up a picnic together for lunch. I studied them. There was a young boy of maybe 8, who had black hair combed nicely and bright blue eyes. He reminded me a bit of Cecil.
I turned my attention to the girl. She looked a bit older than the boy, with the same black hair, but with light grey eyes that seemed almost like a light purple. It seemed familiar to me. After a couple minutes of watching this, it hit me.
“Cecil...” I whispered to myself. “He said he had a friend with black hair and grey eyes when he was younger...and that boy looks like him. Why would I be looking at this though?”
The colours that were bright a moment ago seemed to meld into one another, swirling around. I blinked and upon opening my eyes, I found myself somewhere else.
Where am I now?
