Beautifully Designed

Lost

"This way."

Jason nudged my scapula with the palm of his hand. The force of his push probably wasn't as strong as he realized, yet it sent me stumbling forward, tripping over my own feet. I reached a hand out to catch the side of the wall so that I didn't go flying into the white linoleum floor.

Once I was able to steady myself, I shot a glare over my shoulder, right at Jason. His expression didn't change from the cold, hard look that seemed to overtake the kindness that his features once held; the warmth that made his green eyes shine or the dimple that appeared in his right cheek when he smiled softly. The way his eyes would narrow infinitesimally when he realized something, as if for the first time.

None of that played on his face now. Instead of a happy, shy Jason - an ornate box full of unsuspecting mystery - this person before me was just an empty box. A body that didn't have much of anything except for metal chunks and spark plugs.

My heart clenched as I continued to stare at him. Was any of it real? I wanted to think so. But as of now he was nothing more than a soldier following a set of orders.

"Move," he growled, stepping towards me. And so I did, because, where else could I go?

We walked down a narrow hallway. The corridor was nothing more than bleached-white floors and walls. A simple design of a red and blue stripe ran across the middle of the two walls that surrounded us on either side, like an ever-stretching path. I imagined that once we would reach our destination, there would probably be four great arrowheads pointing us toward a solid, metal sliding door.

Alas, we rounded a sharp corner and came to a plastic door, much to my disappointment. It was just a plain white thing that nearly blended in to the walls, save for a shimmering metal knob that glinted in the fluorescent lighting.

I stopped at the door, half expecting Jason to open it for me, to rekindle the small flame of hope that resided inside me, a flame that still prayed that the Jason I once knew was still there.

"Open it."

I frowned, disappointed. Hope was a funny thing. The things that one would hope not to happen usually do, and the things one would want to happen, don't.

My hand twitched when I reached up to turn the silver knob. Despite the coolness of the strange hospital I appeared to be inside, I didn't notice how sweaty my palms were until I grasped the knob - the clamminess reminded me of a hot, humid summer day. Would I ever be able to witness another day? To feel the sun on my skin? Maybe I was being a little over-dramatic, but defeat tragically appeared in my conscious.

When I pushed the door open, I didn't know what to think at first. A dark room greeted us, with a small amount of light dancing on the floor, coming from the right. My brows drew together in confusion, and I turned to look at Jason.

I caught a brief glimpse of his forest green eyes before his left hand latched onto my left shoulder, and he gripped the bone with an astounding amount of force.

My mouth opened, so close to crying out in pain. It felt like my shoulder was put in between a metal clamp, with someone winding the knob to make the machine pinch my shoulder.

"Move," Jason ordered, pushing me from behind.

The pain was so excruciating that my body began to curl inward, as if to accommodate to his strength. I didn't want to give him the power if I was to plead him to stop, to let me go. But I was saved from having to do so when he pushed me forward one last time.

His force could have been equal to a truck's; I was catapulted against the wall, thrown effortlessly like a pancake. My hands reacted on instinct, flying up to try and protect my face. My cheek smashed against the wall as my eyes squeezed shut upon impact. Immediately it began to throb, feeling like a jackhammer pounding against my cheekbone.