I'm Only Human -- [Editing]

[5] Anger Issues

"The council?" Autumn hysterically questioned the instant she detected the terror written across Tate's face. It was something he couldn't hide, though it was obvious that he tried.

Tate didn't respond to her burning request. He was mentally absent, lost within the borders of his own mind. She wished she could have access to his mind so she'd be able to understand just what was happening.

Autumn gave him a few seconds to return to reality but, when a minute had passed with no sign of awareness, she began to panic.

"Tate?" He snapped back to the real world. Tate sped across the room and to the dresser, tearing open the drawer. "Tate?" Autumn's voice wavered. Tate mumbled incoherent sentences to himself as he combed through the drawer.

Autumn threw the sheets off of her legs, exposing an outfit that wasn't her own. She was currently wearing a plain white top and a pair of dark wash jeans.

She guessed her other clothes had been covered in her blood. Her own crimson . . . sticky . . . She had to practically heave herself from thinking down that dark path. She was determined to shove it away and keep the memories there.

Right now, she needed to figure out who the ominous council was.

"Whose clothes are these?" Autumn wondered. Her eyes reverted back to Tate as he leaned rearward and tossed a jacket onto the bed.

"Put that on," he instructed.

"Tate?" Autumn was becoming increasingly frustrated. He snatched a pair of boots from the ground that had been concealed behind the dresser. "Tate!" He gazed into her big eyes. "Will you please tell me what is going on?"

"I . . ." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. The council is . . . well . . . they're like our president's. They decide everything that happens, what everyone does, and all that good stuff." Tate chucked the boots in her direction; they landed below her. He spun around and collected the remains of the chair.

Autumn slipped on one arm of the jacket with ease. However, as she twisted around to put on the other, a horrible pain exploded. She yelped, gripping her side. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes; it was that kind of excruciating pain.

Before Autumn could so much as sharply inhale, Tate had bounded across the room and was presently kneeling in front of her. One of his hands rested on her shoulder, the other hovered over her cheek as his instincts had kicked in and directed him to do it.

"Are you alright?" Autumn bit into her lip so hard she could taste blood. "Autumn?" She bobbed her head as a sign. "Let me do it." Autumn felt so helpless and weak. While she sucked in air and strained not to cry, Tate forced on the other sleeve.

"Why do they want to see me?" Autumn inquired once she was able to control her reactions. Tate had shifted from the jacket and to her feet. He had already put on and tied the left shoe and was slipping her foot into the right one.