Endlessly

Day fifteen

I'm tired.
I'm tired of lying in bed all day.
I'm tired of staring at the same blank walls.
I'm tired of not knowing why I'm here.

Dylan and I haven't spoken in a couple hours. We're both too confused to form intelligent sentences. It can't be a coincidence that both of our parents are apart of the same elite society. But what does that have to do with us?

A soft whisper came from the far side of the room.

"Helena," he said. "I have an idea."

I turned towards him, curled up in my blanket, my head raised from the pillow.

"What if, the people who took us, they're the bad guys. And-and our parents did something to piss them off so they're holding us hostage," he said.

Under my blanket, a shiver traveled down my spine. Things like this only happened in predictable spy movies, not to regular people like me.

"I'm scared," I said, more afraid of the possibility of a hostage situation than of the unknown.

A moment passed.

"Come here," he said.

I crept over to his bed, careful not to trip over my metal tray, and slipped into the open space beside Dylan. The bed was already warm from his body inhabiting the space earlier. The warmth covered me and made me feel safe.

"I'm scared," I said again, allowing deep sobs to escape my mouth and tears to spill down my cheeks.

"I know," he said. "Me too."