Dawn | Bucky Barnes ✔️

33. Home

Warning: Mention of religion (God) all religious views/belief's should be treated equally, if I see any hurtful comments they will be deleted. - Author.

W I D O W S E V E N T E E N
8 hours

My eyelids hastily move side to side as the images before me like flashbacks. I could feel myself still there, my arms chained behind my back. My wrists irritated with red scar marks from pulling at the chains for hours. Grunts express from my mouth at every blow the soldier throws at me, my body hunched over in pain.

I could hear a beeping sound in my ears, ringing doesn't stop as I felt like a flashlight blinding my eyes. The ring is the type that makes you scream for it to stop, replaying in your ears over and over again until you can't take it anymore that you feel like your going to spontaneously combust.

I feel like my heartbeat is in my head, pounding over and over again. It is that what brings me to the surface of my consciousness. My head bangs maliciously, the ache continues to move down to my neck, my back to around my abdomen as if I'm being stabbed a million times.

"Angel, can you open your eyes for me"

My whole body is stiff and numb, I can't even move my fingers. I try to open my eyes, the heaviness weighing them down the more I try. I urge to stop but I continue anyways.

Am I in heaven? No heaven doesn't have pain or headaches.

"Sev..."

My eyes close tightly from the blinding light above me, trying to ease out the feeling of a hard boiled egg tightening my eclipses. My breathing calms, my brain feels unfunctional that my mind can't click the pieces of what happened together.

"Seventeen wake up!"

My brain finally registers that my name is being called by a familiar voice. I open my eyes fully this time, I feel cold. The blinding light doesn't feel like the sun but rather coldness, I know the room is warm but my whole body feels like death. Corpse like. My conscious trait of fear escapes into my mind, my whole body shaking as I dart my eyes around the place.

The irritated ache in my head, it feels like knives digging into my head. In instinct my hand reaches up towards my temple rubbing at it, I wince as I felt a stitch rub against my finger tips. I furrow my brows in confusion, my mind not functioning still.

My eyes cast towards the tall rectangular mirror in front of me. My eyes meet as I escape a small gasp from my mouth, my eyes ranking over my face abs the state I am in. My gaze looks tarnished with inevitability that I look like I am slowing away.

I feel tears bricking up in my eyes. I look like I am dying. The words hurt to admit but it's true. I look pale, weak, shaky and bruised up. My face looks destroyed with scars, the long jagged scar that runs from my eyebrow to the corner of my cheek. Bits of dried blood stick to my hairline, my eyes look heavy with droopiness and lifeless that I couldn't even keep them open.

Bags under my eyes show dark blue veins like tangled of wires, one of my eyes are swollen badly. My shoulder is in a sling, my legs wrapped up in bandage covering the jagged scars that if I can focus I could feel the scratchiness of the stitches.

I sit myself up with grunts leaving my mouth with someone's hands quickly helping me to prompt myself up. My eyes glance to my right to see Natasha fixing my pillow from behind me, her cheeks stain with dried tears. The room spins as I sit corpse like staring off towards the mirror .