Who Will Save Me Now?

Who Will Save Me Now? Chapter 2

Slowly I open my eyes, squinting into my dark surroundings. I try to sit up, but my head grows heavy and begins to spin. With a small whimper I lay back down, exhaustion creeping up on me.

Suddenly, a woman appears at my bedside. "Thank god. You're awake," she mumbles in relief, gazing down at me.

I pull away, frightened by the stranger.

With a sad glance my way she backs up towards the door. As the woman leaves the room she whispers,"Shh... you're safe now, the bad dreams are over now. Go back to sleep."

With a hesitant nod I roll over onto my side and close my eyes. I have no dreams.

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I awake again, in the same room. Slowly I raise my hand to my side and pinch at my skin. "Ouch," I mumble before sighing and sitting up. This is real.

To my left a door opens and a square of light dances across the room and over the furniture. In the doorway stands a dark figure.

I scream.

In a hurry the figure rushes out of the room as I place my hands over my eyes and begin to cry. The hot tears pour down my cheeks as I reach across my bed, looking, searching for a weapon. Anything to protect myself. My hands hit something solid, metal. A lamp.

Holding it firmly in my grasp, I begin to crawl out of bed just as someone enters the room again and flips on the light switch. With a start I jump up, my feet firmly rooted into the mattress.

I have the lamp raised as I begin to shout, "Stop! Please stop! Just leave me alone!"

A man steps forward quickly saying, "Everything is going to be alright."

"Ahhh..." I bellow swinging the lamp towards the man and hitting him square in the shoulder.

"Hey! Hey! A little help in here!" he shouts in the direction of the door.

In less than a second a swarm of people rush into the room, knocking me over onto my back. My head hits the backboard with a crack, and then everything goes dark.

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"Do you think she's dead?" a voice asks, breaking into my sleep.

"I don't know dude, go check," another voice, this one higher, responds.

For a moment all is silent. Then I hear the creak of a chair as someone stands up, and then his footsteps treading across the floor, nearing my bed. I feel his hot breath as he leans across me and the rough skin of his fingers when he checks my pulse.

"Boo," I whisper, opening my eyes.

A high-pitched squeal escapes his mouth as he jumps back, arms raised in defense.

I attempt to sit up, but my arms are tied to the bed in heavy rope knots. Settling for raising my head and neck against the head board, I scan the room.

Directly across the room sits a boy of my age, glancing at his friend with an amused smirk. "Really?" he asks seriously.

"What?" the friend asks, straightening out his shirt, trying to redeem whatever manliness he can save.

The boy in the chair just rolls his eyes and yells, "She's awake!"

My breathing quickens as a set of feet run down the hallway towards my room.

The woman from before enters in a rush, and I am slightly relieved. She has long blond hair with streaks of grey, and a kind bright blue eyes.

First she checks my head, which before now I hadn't even realized was bandaged and throbbing from where my skull hit the headboard. Then she takes a few steps back to get a good look at me, her face betraying no emotion.

"Where am I?" I mutter with a sudden rush of anger at the unnecessary ropes tying me down, and my injured head.

"You, my dear, are at an academy. In Storm City."

"That can't be," I say, recognizing the name.

"And why is that?" the boy in the chair asks.

"No, no. I shouldn't be here." I shake my head, ignoring the question. I need to get out of here.

"Ah," the woman responds with an eerie tone, "But what we shouldn't be and what we are is not always up to us."