Not So Geekular

Chapter Two: Scott

                 

Still 7 Years Ago

            It's been weeks after being released from the hospital. Couple of days later from being out of the hospital, we held a memorial for Maddie, which I had help from Nolan's family. They helped financially, knowing that I couldn't afford the amount that every one of my friends were planning. Nolan saw how uncomfortable I was hearing about the expenses be paid off from his mom, so every time I bring it up, immediately, he shoots me down, saying how it is no big deal. The gesture was sweet and the ideas from my friend's plans that I heard sounded amazing, but I can't shake off this uneasy feeling in my gut. The entire memorial was beautiful, but also unnerving and throughout the entire time, I just wanted it to be over. Maddie, dressed in full pink gown, make-up and everything, was very beautiful and when I was the last person to view her, I couldn't control the smile and the tears as I just stood in front of her coffin.

            "She is very beautiful, baby," Nolan whispered behind me as we both looked down at Maddie's body.

            "She is," whispered back.

            Going back to school, I was bombard by many people who all asked the same question; what happened to you? And to answer that ... Well, I didn't have an answer. Since the reveal of my little sister's death, no one informed me about my incident. Several times, I asked Nolan, but he told me that he would explain everything after the funeral. Since then, he never mentioned anything.

            "Nolan..." we were in the courtyard one day – just us two, – and I had to ask him once more. "What happened back when we were kidnapped?" Ever night, I have the same recurring dreams of the tormentor himself: Mr. Phillips. I want this to end; I want to dream, not have horrible ugly nightmares of various tortures or the constant running from the monster. I watched him debate with himself on revealing everything to me.

            "Nolan, please... I deserve to know," pleading and pushing him more to the edge of spilling the can.

            Sighing, he nods of approval, turning face towards me. "Okay. I'll tell you."

            "You remember being in that glass container?" he asked, which was answered with a nod. "Well, you were drowning and I tried to rush over and free you somehow. You saw how much of a struggle I had to fight off and I thought I was too late."

            Hanging onto every word he said, I remembered seeing him fight his way towards me; two large muscular men and his towering stepbrother versus one exhausted, yet awaken-at-the-sight-of-his-dying-boyfriend Nolan. "Those two men were fighting you off and I remember after blacking out was seeing your stepbrother joining into the fight."

            "Yes; Brandon 'what-his-face' joined in, but with the upper hand: a gun."

            If I was someone else - someone who wasn't there - I would have gasped at the mention of the word "gun" and maybe, I did a little, remembering hearing a gun shot after things went black, but then, I also was a victim of a gunshot; my leg was shot as I attempted to escape. Having that sense of remembering, my fingers – involuntarily – traced the sealed bullet wound on my right leg. Nolan saw the movements of my fingers and hover his own on top, gliding in the same way as my own fingers.

            "When I saw blood mixing in with the water, I was scared shitless. I practically saw the light in you dimming. No matter how many beats I got, I stopped at nothing to save you. When Brandon put up a gun to my face, reinforcements came."

            Reinforcements?

            My expression, I guess, corresponded to the question I said in my head because Nolan answered right away.