Innocent Torture

12|gone

J A C K S O N

"Don't let them hurt her Jackson." I heard Davids voice, but I couldn't see him, nor could I see anything around me because of the pitch black darkness that I was surrounded by.

"She's not safe." His voice echoed in the space I was in, and with every turn I took to try and locate where his voice was coming from, it seemed like I was met with another thick wall of darkness.

Eventually I began to panic. I reached up and pulled at my hair, trying to substitute the inevitable fear I had for pain.

But it wasn't working as his voice continued to haunt me with words I couldn't comprehend at the moment.

"She won't stay."

"She's not yours."

"She's not me."

At those last words I abruptly woke up. The sudden pressure on my chest lifted as I did the same, and a tired Ebony looked up at me.

"You, okay?" She yawned in between her words as I rubbed my eyes and glanced around the hospital room.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Her hand was still on my abdomen as she eyed me, and before she could ask anymore questions I began to get out of the bed.

"I'm going to head downstairs. I, need to make a phone call." I didn't wait for Ebonys response as I quickly made my way out of the room, and to the stairs as I made my way down.

My fingers itched with the need to light a cigarette, which was something I rarely ever do. And only because of stressed out reasons.

Like this one.

Once I made it out of the hospital, I walked across the lawn to a bench sitting right in the sun. I pulled out a pack of cigarettes I always had in my pocket, and with rather shaky hands I plucked a bud out.

Usually it wouldn't take long to light the small death trap and then take several inhales from it, before stomping it out. But this time, I struggled to take it out of the package, hold it in my shaky hands, and then lighting it was the most hassle of them all.

After burning my thumb several times, and almost throwing the pack across country, I finally got the cigarette how I wanted it and where.

I took in a long breath, and immediately felt a change in my mood. The poisons and toxins in this tiny thing weren't a care for me, as all I wanted was to forget about the dream I just had.

Or nightmare as Jerry liked to call them.

Shit, Jerry. I completely forgot about him, and Paris before I came to the hospital. I pulled out my phone and began to dial his number, just as I saw the many missed calls from him.

With a sigh, I put the phone to my ear and waited with a sensitive ear as the long rings were heard.

"Where are you." Paris was the one to answer the phone, as I took one final swig from the cigarette and dropped it to the ground, before stomping it out.

"Paris I need to speak with Jerry-"

"You can't. He's in a meeting with Markus and the others." At that I furrowed my eyebrows, knowing that Jerry would never have a meeting without me there.