Defiance is Survival

Ch. 5

Spensa pov

I wake up with a start, just to see Jorgen thrown completely across the room, slamming his head into the far wall.

Panic runs through my body. I try to get up, but it's like every bone in my body wants to pull me down. I struggle out of bed, immediately collapsing to the floor. What just happened?

I use my bed to stand up on shaky legs, looking at the distance between Jorgen and I, which seems miles away. My stomach feels like it's burning from the inside out, and all my bones feel like they're shattered into a million pieces. Pain flares through every breath.

I take one step, and almost fall over again. The world swims in front of my eyes. I take another step, and another, and another. Every step closes the gap between me and him.

I'm halfway across the room when I see the pool of blood spreading from his forehead, seeping out as he lays on his stomach.

Oh, scud. I'm most definitely not an expert on the human body, but I know for sure that isn't good.

My carefully timed steps become haphazard limps, trying to get to him, faster, faster.

I hit the ground two meters away from him. My whole body shakes violently, the pain not getting any better, only worse.

Oh, scudding hell. The dark, sticky blood surrounds his entire head now, latching onto his dark hair, staining his clothes. It makes me want to throw up.

I essentially crawl my way to him, grabbing a pillow from the closest bed. I pull off the white pillow cover, lifting his head gingerly. My pants are immediately covered in dark red blood.

I flip over his body, placing the pillow I grabbed behind his head. I press the pillow cover against where he hit his head, and it stains red quickly. Too quickly. Scud. Why am I here? Why do I have to be here instead of anyone else?

You did this.

It's impossible for my hands to shake harder. I know that they aren't lying to me. I know that I did this. I hear a groan from the other side of the bed. Alanik's head pops up.

"What's going on?" she asks, groggily. She meets my eyes. I must look horrible, tears streaming down my face from pain, bloody clothes. She scrambles up, apparently moving better than I am. She rounds the corner of the bed, and widens her eyes at Jorgen.

Help. I don't say the words. Or, at least, I don't think so. But she seems to get the message. Weakly, she runs over to the door, and pushes a button I hadn't noticed before. Alarms blare, but they don't bother me anymore. All that matters is the bloodied boy beneath me. I don't move the pillowcase, even though it's soaked through with blood.

Why did you do that?

Do what?

You let him see the broken. You let him see the about.

What?

They don't answer.

I don't know how long I sit there, pushing the pillowcase firmly against his head, eyes staring somewhere into the distance.

Suddenly, I feel a pair of hands pull me away from him. My knees peel off the ground, my hand letting go of the makeshift bandage.

The hands help me to my feet, walk me back over to my bed, and I sit down. I'm faced with FM and Kimmalyn.

"Hey, are you alright?" FM asks. I meet her eyes. I've only been here for a couple hours at most, but I can't count the number of times i've been asked that question. That, and, "how are you doing?" I shake my head.