Without Direction

Chapter 7

A soft sizzle and the scent of bacon finds it's way to my nose. A smile creeps across my face, I love bacon. I open my eyes, my living room surrounds me. I must have fallen asleep in the living room last night. I search the room for the person responsible for cooking bacon. No one is there. Alarmed I sit up straight, swing my legs over the side of the couch. Still no one is here, the bacon still sizzling in the pan.I frantically look around the room, hoping this is just a joke. I jump from the couch landing on my feet, I jog lightly to the kitchen. I take the pan off the burner and flip the bacon onto the plate that is on the counter. I throw the pan into the sink. I think this over, bacon on the stove and no one is around, I know it wasn't me. I fight the burning tears, then I realize that only Manson could've made this, and he's gone. I run to the door, running through the sitting room and straight into my bedroom. Nothing is out of place, just the way I left it, my heart begins to beat faster. I turn walking through the door into the bathroom. Nothing looks out of place. I frown and walk back to the front door. I check I have clothes on, and throw the door open. I step out and sprint down the hallway. With no idea where I am going I run as fast as I can. My feet pounding on the floors, echoing through the silent halls. I slow when I come to a corner, I glance over my shoulder and follow the hall until the elevators. I push the button wth my pointer finger. I wait, then pound on it with my fist. The doors slide open, i run inside and press the last button. The elevator isn't that slow, it only feels like it moved slower then molases. The doors slide open, I sprint to the front door. I stop dead in my tracks, my mind racing. " Why would Manson leave? Did someone take him?" In that moment I realize what must have happened. My eyes sting, and my hands shake. I push the doors open and the breeze pushes all my hair out of my face. I begin to shake terrified of the truth, Manson is gone. The one person who I felt cared, now he is gone. I breath in through my nose, a sweet and familiar smell fills my nose. I smile only for a second, knowing I'm not too late. "I have a chance to save someone who saved me. I can do this. I can so do this." I give myself a pep talk while I turn the corner. My eyes narrow down on two men who are dragging a man down the street. "Yeah nice job, idiots." I sprint towards them, I begin to notice that the men dragging Manson are way too strong for me to take on. Yet I have one thing up my sleeve, the surprise tatcic. I walk silently behind them thinking over any way I could attack one and have the other at my mercy. I frown " Why would two men drag someone down the street?" I finally look at the man being dragged down the street, he does have the dark hair, but I can;t see his face. I decide I have to take down the two men at the same time. I take a deep breath, blink my tear away and ready my stance. I leap onto one man's back wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning towards the ground. A loud moan and gurgle comes from the man. The other man tries to kick me and I drop off the man, narrowly missing the kick. The first crashes to the ground, my guess passed out. the second one hurls himself towards me. I easilly get out of the way, the man falls to the pavement. I jump onto his back, a crack is drowned in a scream. I stand on his back and aim a kick to the back of his head. I sense movement from behind me. I fear that it was the other man getting up. I deliver the kick to his head and jump to the side. The first man tries to grab me, but is already falling onto the second man. Multiple cracks send shivers down my spine. The two men lay there still as stone. I rush over to the man laying face down in the street. I turn him over, well attempt to. I have to muster all my strength and manage to roll him over over. Manson's face stares up at me. I let the tears fall onto the side walk. I need him to wake up. A groan makes me smile. His grey eyes meet mine, His hair is matted down to his head, he looks like a mess. " Can you get up?" I ask, my voice shaking. " Yeah, but I could use some help." A slight smile creeps its way onto his face. I help him up, he groans once he makes it to his feet. His arm wraps around my shoulder. I walk with him back to the building. I am too busy making sure Manson doesn't pass out to notice that people are following me. We get to the elevators, we shuffle in. The doors close instantly, surprised I glance at Manson hoping he will have an answer. He doesn't seem to notice. He presses a button, and we move fast, the doors open and Manson makes his way down the hallway, after a little walk, we get to my door. I open it and slam it shut after me locking it in the process. People's fists bang on the door, Manson groans and I cover his mouth with my hand. I drag him into the living room. I close the door. I turn around and watch Manson make his way to the couch. I push my back to the door, and slide down until I am sitting on the floor. My eyes follow Manson, his breathing is deep. The only sound we hear is the constant banging on the door. I sit on the floor crying in relief that Manson is okay. My eyes sting from the salty tears that make their way down my face, leaving a sting on my skin in their wake. I glance up at Manson to see his gray eyes staring into my eyes. "Hey." I say, I can't really manage anything else. The lump in my throat tightens every time I swallow. "I'm okay, I promise. But since you are looking at me, how's my hair?" He seems so confident in eveything he says, and he smiles even with blood on his face. I smile and reply rather weakly "A little different. Here let me get you something to eat." I slowly lean forward, my weight on my hands. I push from the floor and become my usual height, which isn't much, but it's something. I slowly make my way to the plate of bacon I left on the counter. I pick up the plate, turn on my heels and Manson stands directly behind me. "You didn't have to get up. I could have gotten you something." I say, watching his movements. He goes to fridge and opens the freezer. He takes out an ice pack, well what I think is an ice pack anyway. " I didn't want to ask for something I could easily get. Plus I hate feeling useless." He looks into my eyes, a sadness draping itself around him. I place the plate back on the counter and take the ice pack from his hands. I wrap my arms around him, my head rests on his chest. His heart beats faster and i feel his chin on my head. I can't help but smile, this was the way it was supposed to be. "Thank you." My eyebrows knit together, confused I ask " For what?" "For saving me." I smile because he thinks I saved him. I mean I did, but it wasn't exactly like i saved him from falling from a forty story building. But I am happy he is okay. I push him away and pick up the ice pack. I walk over to the couch and flop down onto the seat. Manson folllows, but resting his head in my lap and looks up at me. I plop the ice pack on his face and lean back. The couch swallows me, the couch is like an abnormally fat marshmallow, swallowing everything it touches. Manson leans foreward towards the table, he looks as if he is going to fall. So i pull him back to me and reach over him grabbing the remote. I click the on button and the holograms begin to move and dance on the white wall. Manson looks up at me. I smile because I try to memorize his face, because I came so close to never seeing it again. His olive skin makes his gray eyes even brighter, his dark hair is perfect with his eyes. His nose dips perfectly maki Manson looks like Manson. He smiles and grabs the remote. I look at him sloghtly surprised, but more curious. He clciks the off button and sits up.I wonder what I did wrong. Manson is staring at the wall, I don't have the slightest idea what is wrong. "Do you want to know?" Manson asks sharply. "Not unless you are ready to talk about it." I say, trying to sound sweet. I get up from the couch and walk to the fridge. I am dying to know what happened, but I don't want to push Manson. I set a glass on the counter and begin to fill it with water from the tap. I turn around leaning on the counter, granite is not very kind to my spine. I have been staring at the bottom of my glass, I didn't even notice Manson standing in front of me. He took the glass from my hands and sets it on the counter. I turn my head to the side, something I do when I'm confused. Manson just stands there, still as stone. Manson stares into my eyes, I stare into his, wondering what's wrong. I mean other then remembering being kidnapped, and whatever else happend to him. His lips begin to move, then stop, as if he was trying to say something. I smile, and shake my head. I begin to turn away from him and walk back to the couch. But Manson grabs my wrist, I pause and turn around slowly. He begins to pull me closer to him."You are so beautiful." My heart begins to race a million beats per minute. He begins to lean down towards me, and I have to go on my tip toes to meet his chin. His lips meet mine, a burst of heat rushes through me. His arms wrap around my waist and pulls me closer to him. I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers just behind his ear. His fingers begin to bury themselves in my hair. I begin to feel like someone just set my lips on fire. The heat from Manson begins to spread through me. I start to become weak and rely on Manson to hold me up right. He is surprisingly stong, he holds me from the floor for a while. He pulls away first. "You know you are practically impossible to flirt with- though I suppose the whole situation is an obstacle itself." Manson chuckles, "So you've skipped the traditional flirting and you just kissed me?" I smirk and the corner of my mouth turns upward. " Well, I was a bit far gone to stop." I smile " I'm very direct, go big or go home." I laugh and get pulled back into a kiss, this one is even more heated. I feel that I was struck by a lightning bolt. I now wonder "Is this my first kiss? Why did Manson really bring me back to life?" I begin to shake, and I am pulled closer to Manson. He holds me and I push away. "What's wrong?" Manson asks, still holding me. I slip out of his arms and let the tears roll down my cheeks and splash onto the floor. I run through the living room, through the sitting room and into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. Or so I thought. Manson stands in the door way. I have collapsed onto the floor, crying. Manson wraps his arms around me, pulling me off the floor. Cradling me close to him. He holds me tightly and lets me cry. I cry for hours, the silence taking the sobs, and my face absorbing the tears. "I can't imagine what it feels like to be thrown into another time, with different people, and no memories. I am trying to give you the memories you missed in a life time." Manson who now shakes a little has comforted me for so long I ran out of tears. "Manson why me? Millions died before me, why me?" Manson became stiff. " Because we had history per say." I turn around and all of a sudden angry, stifle a scream and say rather loudly "What type of history." Manson chuckles, which angers me even more. " I would say strangers, met at a morgue, One dead and another dying." Manson has turned my anger to guilt. I feel cruel for being mad at him for saying that. "Manson why did you really choose me?" I ask hesitantly. "Well there were scientific reasons, but I wanted to bring you back because I felt something when I met you, well dissected you. That doesn't sound right." I laugh "Manson it's okay, just promise you won't leave." Manson kisses me on the forehead. "I promise."