The ground beneath me that I awake on, is nothing like the hard, congregated steel that I had awoke in earlier that day. It is soft, warm and lush;the complete opposite of my arrival box. As I am in a serious state of shock, I don't want to wake up; but I figure that I have to, if I want to answer all my questions. Slowly, I open my eyes to be welcomed by a boy with ragged blonde hair that wisps just over one of his intense brown eyes. "Hello," he says. There is silence for a moment, then it hits me, he is the person that sounds familiar. he looks a bit familiar too. Millions of questions buzz around inside my head but all I manage to utter is, " My name is Annette."
"Hi Annette, is it alright if I call you Netty?" I nod and he offers me his hand, " let me show you around." I hesitate for a mere second and bite my lip, unsure whether to trust him or not, eventually, I stretch out my hand and clasp his, him pulling me up in the process. Suddenly, a searing pain shoots through my left shin. "Aaaah!" I cry out in agony. I stumble down onto the floor, tears flooding my bloodshot eyes. "Are you okay?" The familiar boy asks. "Course your not, I'm a shank to even ask that question, come with me Netty, we can forget the tour for now; you're going to the med-jacks." He helps me up, slinging my arm around his shoulder, and leads me to a small wooden hut that has a table, that is just about long enough for a fully grown man, placed in the middle. I couldn't help but notice, that as we hobbled over there, the boy had a limp. That seems familiar as well. As instructed, I lay down on the table and watch as someone called Clint organises what looks like a medical kit. Clint sits on a chair one side of me, while the familiar boy sits on the other. "I never got your name." I tell the boy that has a limp.
"Oh yes, My name is Newt." He answers. All of a sudden, my leg feels like it is on fire.
"What was that?" I scream, my voice more high-pitched than it has ever been before. Clint and Newt look startled. "Well?" I question.
Clint sucks in breath before answering me. "It was morphling, it's supposed to ease the pain, not aggravate it. I needed to use it so that I could soothe your leg as liquid has been injected into you. Painlessly. I don't know what you've been injected with and why, but I can tell you, you weren't given it for a good cause."
"Wicked is NOT good." I mumble under my breath.
"What was that?" Newt asks me.
"Nothing." I reply, quicker than I should. I don't know why I said that, I just did. Like something is controlling me, manipulating, even. I let it pass.
"I'm sorry but I've only just realised that can't take the injection out Netty, however, I can use a syrum that hopefully will make it better. Temporarily. And I can't keep giving you morphling, because that would be bad." Clint tells me. I look over at the needle and see the initials, W.C.K.D printed onto it. Then a moment of realisation hits me, and I remember things. None of the things are clear but, I can remember long white hallways with a door on one side saying, 'DO NOT ENTER, W.C.K.D TESTS BEING
HELD.' Then I remember nudging it open slightly, and seeing someone struggling and screaming, people in green suits knocking them out. Whatever's happening, I know it's not good. And then I can't remember anything else. Just darkness in my mind.
"Here we go," Clint says, snapping me out of my temporary daydream.
I scrunch my fists into balls as the sharp needle is pushed into my body.
Despite digging my nails into my palms, there is only one way I can stop myself from screeching out in pain. 'Wicked is NOT good.Wicked is NOT good.Wicked is NOT good.' I think to myself as the memories flood back into my mind, my eyes burning with revenge.
YOU ARE READING
I'll be here
FanficWhen she awakens in the glade, Netty is welcomed by a boy with ragged blonde hair and chocolatey brown eyes. He seems very protective over her and she can't work out why. There is only one explanation. Love.
