Midnight Lips | Ghost

𝐂𝐇. 37

𝐕𝐀𝐋
༻❁༺

My head hurt so badly by the second time I opened my eyes. It felt as if my heart decided to plant itself in my brain, because suddenly I could feel it slamming against my temple and could hear it beating in my ears. A high pitch sound followed, before I heard a soft whimper in the distance that brought me back into reality. Looking down at my hands, I found them pushing my body up from the ground.

Everything went out of focus for a moment. I blinked twice, and heard the same soft whimper again, before I realized that the person moaning in pain was me. It hit me then, what had happened the last time I could see straight.

Graves.
Shepherd.
The stolen missiles.
Simon.
Simon.
Oh, Simon.

The last thing I remembered was Simon's eyes as he looked down at me, huge with worry and not a clue of what to do next. I remembered I told him to leave, to go. I remembered his finger brushing my lips after he promised to come back for me. I remembered Graves's face when he punched me so hard in the face I lost consciousness for the second time.

At least I knew Simon was still out there, maybe already on his way to get me. My stomach twisted upside down. Right. Oh, fuck. I had no idea what time it was, if it was day or night. I had no idea how many hours have passed—or worse, days. I had no idea where I was, what place this was, who had brought me here, and if something had happened to me that I didn't know of.

I swayed a little when I sat up, my back immediately getting held by a cold wall. Finally, my vision came into focus and I realized there was no light in the room except for the one breaking in through the gap under the door. It was enough for me to make out the small, dirty room. Four walls, separated only by a few feet. One door that looked to be made from metal. Nothing more. No windows, no space, no mattress. They had thrown me on the floor like garbage.

It was the dirty, unused toilet that sat in the corner of the room that told me this was a prison. An abandoned one.

My whole body was sore, though it didn't stop me from getting up and dragging my body on the wall to make it to the door. I tried to open it but of course, it was locked. I didn't have it in me to try another way, my body and mind were still not ready for it.

I sat back down on the ground and couldn't hold back the groan that slipped past my lips. I fucking hated it already. Everything. What was I going to do? How was I going to get out in these conditions? I couldn't depend on Simon or anyone else. I had to believe I was on my own now like anyone would do.

But it was getting harder to breathe. My heart was back to drumming in my ears. My wrists--my thumb from dislocating it to free myself from the cuffs--made this situation all the worse. I counted my breaths. One, two. I could not fall back asleep. Three, four. The walls felt like they were closing in on me and since the room was already small, I began to feel them on my skin.

Five, six.
Damn concussions.

The door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall. The new light illuminating the room sent a shot of pain through my skull. I saw Graves's face as he walked into the room, and I immediately got up to meet his height. He wasn't that much taller than me. Not like Simon, anyway. I held my head high, even though my body screamed in pain and all I wanted was to lie down.

"Well, you do look like shit," he said, staring at me while he walked further into the room. "That's what happens when you think you can beat someone bigger than you. Are you sure you don't want to take a seat?"