ꜰᴏᴏʟ'ꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ || ᴛᴡᴅ

121: ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ

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Strangely enough, he dreamt.

It was before the end of the world, though that wasn't a problem in his mind, he'd forgotten about it. Sami was in his childhood home, but his friend had decided to have a party in his house, which sucked.

At first, he tried hiding in his room, but the noise was too much. He tried over and over to get them to leave, but everyone stayed. 

Then, something bad happened. He wasn't sure what it was, even in the dream. But something bad happened to him. 

He was still alive. Everyone else was, too. But it made him angry. He yelled at people to leave, and they still wouldn't budge. He broke someone's guitar, and wasn't even sure if he meant to or not. But then everyone hated him. So he left.

He sat around the side of the house, down a pathway that eventually lead to the beach. He drew something in the sand, but couldn't see because he had no light. It must have rained, because everything was wet. 

Two people came out to him and told him to apologize. He tried to explain that he was hurt, but they kept giving each other this look that he was being too much, but would say they understood. He didn't get it. He just said he'd apologize tomorrow.

He woke up the next day, and his phone wasn't working. Though whoever tried to hurt him had been messaging Rosita, but now Sami couldn't talk to her. She was working far away, where it was night time. She'd be asleep, he can't bother her. 

So, he spent hours trying to find a way to get to her, but there was nothing. No phones worked. No boats sailed, no planes flew. Nothing. 

He sat out the front of his house with his head in his hands. He didn't even need to tell her what happened. He just needed a hug. 

Then, she was there. Walking up to the house, talking like she'd forgotten her keys and had just been there. 

But as he went over to her, he felt everything start to fall away. He hugged her, and took a deep breath, trying to remember the feeling, the scent, trying to ground himself. He was waking up. He knew he was waking up. 

-

He was woken in almost darkness, and unable to breath. 

There was a bag over his head. It was wet, he couldn't breath. It was like he was drowning. 

There was a voice, and he was upright. He hadn't even realized he was upside down. He coughed, feeling the blood soaking the bag, his chin, and tried to breath, but still it was almost impossible with the bag. 

"The others." A voice spoke. A man's, with way too much anger. "Are they out there? Are they close?"

Sami tried to gather his thoughts. "No . . . se."

"What about that woman? Is she your leader?"

"No . . . I don't know." He coughed, feeling more blood over his chin.

So, he was pushed down on the board he was tied to, and they went again. 

It went on like this for hours, or it felt that long, Sami wasn't sure. They tried waterboarding, beating him, but he didn't say a word. He wondered why they didn't try cutting off limbs. Maybe it wasn't their style. He also wondered why they hadn't brought in someone else, but then thought maybe they don't have anyone else. That was good. Meant whatever he did would just affect him. 

He was dragged into a cell a while ago. He felt horrible. Without water, the coughing was really getting him. His throat felt like sandpaper. The waterboarding and beating he could handle, but constantly coughing was a pain.