Chapter 17

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 Dedicated to LilPuppeta for adding this to their reading list! Thanks!

AND I just got #853 on the What's hot list!!! I'm so happy!

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  My head still felt like it'd been hit with a brick. Like, at least a bajillion times. It took every ounce of my strength to stand still in the lobby, but it was even harder to do so in the elevator. Every ounce of my nature was telling me to rip out the throats of every person standing in there with me. And believe me, there were a lot of people. I bet I looked like a psycho to them, standing there with my eyes fixated on the door. No luggage. Clenched fists and jaw.

  As soon as I reached the eleventh floor, I bolted out of there like a road runner on steroids. I ran down the hall at full speed, but something strange happened. In a split second, I was already at the end of the hall. I turned slightly to my right, to see my room number, 1102.

  Okay... Not gonna question it.

  Just then, an image flooded into my mind, of a tall, preppy blonde girl sitting on a couch saying, 'I don't question miracles.'

  Is this girl related to me somehow? Or is she my friend? I don't know... But I sure hope I'll eventually find out. At least that time all I needed was a phrase to trigger a memory.

  I slid the keycard into the door, only for the light to go red.

  "Oh, no... Not after I've made it this far. Ugh... I just want to sleep. Come on, door. Please open," I mumbled to myself.

  I tried sliding the card another time. Red.

  This time, I turned the card upside down and tried it. Nothing.

  I switched the card the other way.

  Red.

  Turn it around both ways.

  Red.

  Slide it a little faster.

  Red.

  Slide it extremely slowly.

  Red.

  Damn it!

  I'm cranky, hungry, and exhausted, and all I want is to get into my hotel room. Is that seriously too much to ask for? This goes on any longer, and I'll have a nervous breakdown.

  Out of nowhere, the exploding pain erupted in my jawline and mouth again, causing my knees to buckle. I grabbed onto my mouth to try and muffle my scream, as I slid to the floor, and brought my knees back around in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut as everything became brighter once more, and my muscles tensed greatly throughout my whole body.

  Trying to keep calm, and regain control of my senses, I put my back against the door, and buried my face into my knees. Ugh... I don't want anyone seeing me like this. Why now? Why not once I got into the room?

  It was then that I smelled what seemed to be the exact thing I was craving. I'd been smelling it for a while now, but it was almost as if it was too faint to be able to tell exactly what it was. Like it was hidden just beyond my line of sight. But now... It smelled more... exposed. The same smell I got when I was to close to another person.

  I heard someone set the delicious-smelling object down to my left, as they approached me. I wasn't willing to lift my head up just yet, out of fear I still couldn't trust my eyes.

  The person, who, strangely enough, didn't smell quite like everyone else, seemed to hesitate, before putting a calming hand on my shoulder.

  "Serenity? Are you okay?"

  With tears streaming down my face, and my hand still clamped over my mouth, I slowly lifted my head to see a very handsome, young man, not much older than me, crouching in front of me. He had shaggy blonde hair and a slight five o'clock shadow.

  "How do you know my name?" I asked softly, my voice cracking at the end. Great. Now this guy's gonna think I'm weak. Which, I'm not denying I am, but I don't want him to know I can't handle whatever it is I'm going through.

  "I'll explain later..." His voice was deep, but had an edge to it, and, much like his eyes, gave away that he was trying to make an important decision.

  "Do... Would you...?" I kept stuttering, trying to catch my shaky breath.

  "Would I what?"

  "Would you happen to know what's wrong with me?" I said in between breaths. I'm surprised he even heard me.

  He slowly reached up, and removed my hand from clutching my mouth, to reveal what probably looked like a bloody mess. Two of my canines were suddenly very sharp, and they were mercilessly tearing away at my gums.

  After drawing in a shaky breath, and looking around the hallway for a second, he looked back up at me, an expression of pity in his eyes, and nodded.

  He then took the key card from me (which, aside from the stuff in my pockets, was all I had) helped me to my feet, and easily slid the card into the door handle.

  "That won't-" I started.

  The heavy wooden door slowly creaked open, as I leaned on this strange guy's side, all the energy sucked out of me.

  "Work..." I finished.

  He gently set me down on the couch, before retrieving his jugs of red liquid and closing the door.

  I can only hope this man is a good guy.

  I started to rub my eyes as I sat on the couch, waiting for him to come in fully. He sat on the couch facing towards me, so I turned to look at him. As my tears faded a little more, I got my first non-blurred vision of him.

  Suddenly, a flashback popped into the front of my memory, and I knew then that I didn't like this guy. I remembered an image of him trapping me against a wall, wearing a trench coat similar to the one he has on now, as more blurred figures stood at a distance. The others stepped slightly forward, as the guy that had me pinned growled slightly.

  "Come any closer, and I'll kill her," the man said.

  The flashback faded, and I blinked a few times to make sure it was real. Once I came to my senses, I hastily backed away from this mysterious guy.

  "I... I know you. You threatened to kill me," I stuttered.

  "Is that all you remember?" he asked cautiously.

  I nodded slowly.

  "Well, then, you should know, that even though we had our differences, we were best friends up until you lost your memory. That is, I'm assuming you lost your memory, right?"

  I nodded again, slightly relieved, but not quite sure.

  "Why are we in New York? I don't remember ever being outside of Missouri," I asked, not able to keep the curiosity out of my voice.

  "Hold on. I'll explain as much as I can when we get there. I need to make sure I have the facts right," he replied.

  "So, you know what's going on with me?"

  "I do believe I do. But, like I said, I just need to make a quick phone call to confirm it."

  He stuck some earbuds in my ears, and scooted the jugs of red liquid closer to me.

  "Listen to music and drink this," he instructed me, "It'll make you feel better."

  "Wait," I stopped him, as he was about to get up. "What's your name?"

  "Trent Davis."

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