Shards

Chapter 3

I am introduced to the other people. The woman who was arguing is named Logan. She repeats her name with a strange sort of echo, as if I won't remember. 

Though I guess she's got reason to doubt, because I do forget the rest of the people's names within minutes. 

"We're all just trying to find answers," says Jamie, who still hasn't dropped the grandma-girl bit. 

"You can't be trying very hard if you're still in this basement," I counter, and there is no response. 

I protest that we need to get out of here, that eventually we need to scout the city for resources, if not other people, but am turned down. When the lights are flicked off and everyone lays down for bed, I find the iron door to the outside locked, the key probably deep in someone's pocket.

That's fine, though, I tell myself. I'll just get out of here in the morning. Find my bike, or maybe a car, and drive until this city is far, far, away, and I have found the staff of this hospital. 

And so I lay down, and dream. 

It seems that minutes after I've fallen into sleep, my eyes open once again, but I do not see the pitch-black basement, with the soft sounds of breathing cascading around me. 

Instead, the lights are once again bright, the beeping consistent. My mom is beside me, in the chair, and while she is no longer crying, tear tracks stain her cheeks. 

"Oh, Sadie," she sighs, "you're awake. You're fine, honey, it's going to be all right..."

She says more, but I don't listen because focusing is hard, and takes more effort than I want to put in right now.

The nurse comes in, familiar but different. Her slicked-back ponytail is bleach-blonde and lumpy around the scalp, and her smile is too wide, but not by much. 

"Hi, Sadie," she says. "Welcome to Beacon Hospital. We hope you enjoy your stay."

And then she leaves, the door not quite shutting behind her, swinging in what must be the wind. The cold creeps into my room, and mom glances towards the door, standing almost reluctantly. 

"I've got to go, honey," she says with a slight smile. "Don't worry, I'll be right back."

Then she is gone, and my eyes close again, and for the rest of the night, it is dark, and cold, and terrifying. 

Once morning comes (according to someone's watch) we wake, turn on the lights, and find a door deep in one of the hallways stretching out from the main room, scavenging from beyond a treasure trove of food stored in wooden crates. 

I remember my plan of escape and try the door, but it is locked. 

There's a multitude of cans, so someone finds a can opener behind a shelf, and we feast. 

For the second time I look around at the motley crew, but this time my brain moves slower, more calculated. I've decided to form a plan on getting out of here before I actually try to, and knowing people would definitely help with that. 

A woman with a bandage around her head and a tendency to repeat her phrases tells a story of her first day of high school to a young girl who looks like she's about to experience just that. The girl smiles, practiced demeanor cool and uncaring, but her eyes are wide. 

"How'd you get hurt?" Jamie asks me, leaning against the wall beside me and then sliding down so he's at my height. 

"Car accident," I say, and provide no further explanation. We're both quiet for a second as the woman goes on to describe her teacher throwing a ruler at her after she answered a question wrong. 

The next night, my dreams are full of blonde boys leaping from cars, throwing rulers at me and screaming. 

I wake in a cold sweat and can't get back to sleep for hours. 

Jamie tries to talk to me more in the following days, telling me facts about his life when it's evident that I don't want to share mine. "My mom's name is Stacey," he says. "She lived on a farm when she was young, then grew up and moved to the city. My dad brought her here."

"I wonder where they are now," I say, and I think we can both tell my thoughts are on my own mother, not his. 

"Do you think they're worryin' 'bout us?" asks the young girl from earlier, with a heavy southern accent. Her name is Poppy, and she's thirteen. She was in the hospital for a brief overnight stay after a cross-country related incident somehow involving her knee that she goes into detail with but I don't really listen to. 

Poppy seems to be fascinated with me, and even more so with Jamie. I can't tell if she's trying to figure me out or be me, and it's an interesting feeling. I haven't yet decided if I like it or not. 

"There has to be a way to contact our parents, right?" says Poppy, to both me and Jamie but really more to Jamie. She's pretty much figured out that I don't like to listen. 

Plus, I've been getting these brutal headaches as of late, and it's hard to pay attention to a girl with a shrill voice when you have your own shrill voice in your head, screaming nonstop. 

Even when the headaches are gone there is a dull ache above my ears, behind my temples, and I can't get rid of it no matter how much I hide away in darkness or drink excessive amounts of water. Eventually I venture out into the light and give in to the pain. 

It hurts, but socialization helps. 

And, as I watch the others, a plan begins to form. 

this is a lil bit shorter and more concise but idk what else to put in it so here's your chapter! hope you enjoyed <3

next chapter will be out nov 10th! 

999 words