My body was stiff. My eye won't open. They were like, rusted shut. The swarm of bees were back. They were stinging like crazy. I moved my fingers. You know, when you move your fingers and they feel and sound like their creaking. That was happening to me. I still was in my clothes. I felt loose bandages rub on my wrist.
I heard music. My ears work, at lease. My right arm twitched. Right arm, check! Left, let's see. I tried to move it. Nothing. Left arm needs work. I pulled my eye lids open. I slowly lifted my body and propped it up with my right arm. I moved my legs. Legs, check! Left arm? I bent it. Works! I pulled my arm with the bandages. Behind them, was 2 tiny scars.
I looked around. I was in my room. My ROOM. My real room. Not Rykre's, mine. I heard talking coming from the living room. I stood up. I took step, almost falling down. I was like a toddler learning how to walk for the first time. I clutched the door frame, my knuckles turning white. I put a hand on the wall. I let it be my guide.
I finally made it to the living room. I took a step, falling.
"Storm!"
Cobra caught me. He pulled me to the couch. I saw Rykre and Layla sitting there, their faces full of surprise and horror.
"Storm, can you hear me?" Cobra asked.
"Y-Yeah." I stuttered. "What happened to me?"
"Python did something to you. You were out for a week."
I stood up again. I shuffled to the door.
"Storm, what are doing?" Asked Rykre.
I was about to say something, but my mouth clamped shut. My brain had control over me, making me walk. I took a step out side. The wind blew, leaves falling off the trees. I stumbled to the middle of the clearing. I fell on my knees. Now, wasps were in my head. I clutched my head. The tears streamed off my face.
My head moved up. Python stood there.
"Ah, so your awake. Wondering when you were going to." He said, slyly.
"What the hell, did you do to me?" I spat, then wincing.
"Your going to be just like me."
My eyes grew wide, staring at him. I felt my wings sprawled out of my back. I turned my head. I clamped my mouth with a trembling hand.
END OF CHAPTER 28
YOU ARE READING
Storm
ActionBeing orphaned at 11 isn't that bad. I mean, your mother dying at home, right in front of your eyes and your dad leaving you to go on a "supposed" hunting trip and never coming back. Yeah, that doesn't faze me at all. Also, being scarred at 10, naw...
