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𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 / entry eleven
❝Take Back Our Country (Final Part)❞
➸ word count: 1 110
➸ inspiration: that one dream I had almost two years ago that I weirdly still remember
It swallowed me whole when I managed to cling onto consciousness. It engulfed my vision and overpowered my senses as my eyes slowly fluttered open. It summed up the rest of the World's knowledge on what sinister things were unfolding in our nation.
Or so I thought.
The searing headache came before I could even register my surroundings. I groaned and pressed my cold hand to my forehead, hoping my inward pleading would somehow make it stop. My circumstances and the well being of my friends sat at the back of my mind, waiting to assault my thoughts after I worked past my migraine.
Though my body was against it, my mind forced me to sit up. The room was dark and dank. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was too dry and scratchy for me to do anything more than force air out my mouth. I coughed. The noise prompted movement on the other side of the room.
"Kawaii?" I recognised the voice as Willow's. I made out the shadow of her tall, dark figure nearing me. "You OK?"
"I have a huge headache, but at least I'm alive," I muttered. "Where are we?"
"I don't know," she answered. I sensed her sitting down next to me. "Timothy's here with us, too. Fast asleep, though."
"Shouldn't we check this place out, find the others?" I asked her, already on my feet. The room spun for a moment. I stumbled, disorientated. Willow leaped up and caught me in a nick of time. I patted her shoulder in a gesture of thankfulness.
"I don't want to leave Timothy here alone," Willow said worriedly. She was like a mother figure to me in absence of my own mom - the only difference being she could kick ass.
"Then you stay here with him; I'll go investigate," I ignored her protests. My numb legs carried me like an inconvenient vessel to the single, padded door in the room. I had only been awake for a minute and already felt claustrophobic. I pushed the door open.
The light outside blinded me as I stepped out into it. I wasn't sure what to expect as I dragged myself down the corridor, but it most definitely wasn't a waiting room filled with other people my age, monitored by adults wearing name badges. I must've looked like an outright mess judging by the pitiful gazes that landed on me, but I didn't care. I was hungry, cold and in serious need of a painkiller and some answers.
"Excuse me, where am I?" I asked one of the ladies dropping a tray of tea for some guys who looked to be freshmen. I must've spoken too quickly, or too quietly, or both, because she asked me to repeat myself.
"This place. Where... where is this place? How did I get here?"
"All the normal people are here," one of the freshman boys answered. Him and his friends were annoyingly smug, "They may have tried their luck with you."
"F*ck you," I spat in a moment of anger. It was an incredibly immature rebuttal on my part, true, but my last memory was escaping the clutches of possessed teachers and potentially almost dying. Was it not normal for me to feel confused? I turned to the woman, "Ma'am, I'm so sorry, I just wanna know--"
"Kawaii!" I looked past her shoulder for the source of my name. Relief washed over me like a wave as I rushed into the welcoming arms of Keegan. I didn't even realise I was crying until his soft finger brushed the hot wetness on my cheek away. "Don't worry. We're OK. Everything is going to be OK."
"Where are we?" I questioned him, except my voice wasn't urgent this time, just curious. It was as though he were a cup of soothing tea much needed after a stressful day, only much more appealing to look at.
"We were almost taken by those teachers when we were knocked out, but we were saved and taken here," Keegan explained. "This is an American organisation that was quickly established after that gas outbreak. They've worked on an antidote and everything. They've got those of us unaffected in dorms around here. We'll be dismissed when everything's cleared over."
The information was hard to digest. It was like those bitter pills you force yourself to swallow, that get caught in your oesophagus and sit there like a rock. "Oh," was my only response.
"Talk about perfect timing, huh? They found Izzy and Nat, too. They're in the same dorm as me," his eyes were filled with so much faith. I felt my own spirit lifting just looking at him.
"We're going to be OK!" I said happily, having fully processed what happened. I just needed time to interpret these sorts of things - I wasn't much different from a computer.
He nodded. "Yup. It almost feels unreal; like a dream, or something."
I was still wrapped in his arms. "Sometimes the things we do are crazy."
He raised a brow, a smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, but brainwash-the-entire-country crazy?"
I shrugged. "People fought wars in the past. Isn't that crazy, too?"
"I guess so," his arms untangled from around my waist. Even as he did that, his warmth remained, settling on my skin and sinking into my bones. "The government didn't do a very good job at keeping their intentions secret. The United States knew in a matter of two days."
"Willow and I may or may not have played a role in that," I shrugged nonchalantly.
He gawped, "For real?"
"We kept records of everything in a journal. Every single detail. Willow sent it to an American pen pal of hers and things kind of snowballed from there. At least, that's what I think happened."
"So, our rescue mission wasn't a total fail," Keegan grinned, "Without those records, who knows what would've happened?"
"I sure as heck wouldn't, but, hey, at least we're slowly but surely getting our country back."
"Yeah, we are. Things can go back to the way they used to be...," he placed a hand on my shoulder. "Perfect."
✦ QOTE: Who is your favourite music artist and your favourite song by them? ✦
thanks for reading! stay rad, don't be sad, be glad.