Chapter 3

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Tucker's POV

"I don't like that look on his face." Wag commented.
"Me either..." I agreed.
"What are you talking about, sir?" Jordan asked, looking up at him.
"Call me Mr. Lee." He demanded. "You can stay, with me. You'll be safe."
"R-Really?" Jordan stuttered.
"Jordan's changed, ya know? He's now... you know... a lot more braver." Sonja critiqued.
"Yeah! I won't mind."
"DON'T DO IT!" Tom yelped.
"Ok! Thank you Mr. Lee!" Jordan chirped, smiling.
"How are you smiling?" He asked, not even appreciating his happiness.
"Huh?"
"Your parents are dead, kid. Everything ya once knew, gone. Everyone's in a war, outside your house. Not to mention, I lost all my money. You and I have one thing in common, we have nothing left."
Jordan frowned, as if to say, "Way to be positive."
"Come on in, kid." Mr. Lee finished, breaking the silence in between them.
His house was old, the walls a dirty-looking tan, the carpets looked unswept, the places had stuffy air, and plus, there were cobwebs in almost every single corner of his house.
Mr. Lee led Jordan up a set of stairs, which were old and creaky, and into a tiny room.
It was probably one of the cleanest rooms in the house.
"Sleep here. I'm a few rooms down. Cya tomorrow, kid."
"Th-Thank you!" Jordan called out as he left him.
Alone.
"I miss you already, mommy."
"Wait. Isn't taking a kid in without the actual paperwork against the law?" I questioned.
"Holy crap." Tom answered, looking at me with wide eyes.
Jordan lied down on a bed, which was extremely uncomfortable.
"This is my new life now?"

0°0°0A Few Hours Later...0°0°0

[WARNING! If you are sensitive to alcohol/drunkness, please, skip this part, and I will sum it up at the end! Thank you.]

Jordan stared at the ceiling, unable to get some sleep.
There were distinct footsteps outside, but it didn't sound... normal.
It sounded as if whoever was outside was stumbling around.
"Mr. Lee? Is that you?" Jordan asked, quietly.
Suddenly, his door bursted open.
Mr. Lee stood there, an aroma of alcohol surrounding him, 2 beer bottles in his left hand.
"I COULD HAVE HAD MONEY STILL IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU LIVING!" He yelled at him.
"What?" Jordan questioned, looking at him, pulling the covers up to his face.
"I should've let the guy shoot ya."
"So, he's a psychopath." Tom commented.
"No dip." I reply, not letting my eyes leave the screen.
Even though Jordan and I didn't know one another personally, I felt kind of bad for him.
I mean, as far as I can tell, he had a pretty rough past.
And after a while of the two just staring at one another, Mr. Lee took one of the beer bottles, and chucked it at Jordan.
Jordan fully put the sheets over his head, protecting himself from the glass shards.
"COME HERE, YOU MISTAKE!" He yelled at him.
"Wow..." Tom said under his breath.
"Who would do this to a kid? Especially after their parents died!" Wag questioned.
Jordan stayed in his position, not moving.
"You asked for it." he grumbled walking over to Jordan's side, beating him.
Scratching him.
Kicking him.
Just generally hurting him.
[IT'S ALL DONE! Basically, Mr. Lee came in drunk, started bringing down Jordan, and hurting him physically by throwing a beer bottle at him, and punching and kicking him. Rough life, man :/]

Suddenly, the tape slowed down.
"Wh-?" Sonja questioned, before being interrupted by the narrator,
"This is an important moment in Jordan's life. He still, to this day, has scars from where he was injured."

----

Jordan's POV

I desperately wanted to know how I, not being in the coma, could help.
I went to Urulu to see if the library had any documented events of the first time this occurred.
"Comas, comas, comas..." I say, scanning the books.
I needed to figure this out, how I could talk to them.
"According to Sidney Dennis, the the person who experienced her close friends going into a coma-like state, and experienced her whole lifetime up to the point where they all met her. If you wish to get more details, her communicator number is xxx-xxx-xxxx." I read, in a book called "Rare Medical Issues"
Quickly, I pick up my communicator, dial in the number, and message her.
J = Jordan
S = Sidney
"J: Hello? Is this Sidney Dennis?
S: yeah, who is this?
J: Listen, my friends are experiencing why your's went through a bit back. Is there any way I can talk to them?
S: I guess.. have you tried intercepting their coma?
J: How'd I do that?
S: Doctors don't tell you this, but someone's controlling the coma. They controlled who went under, and who's life they see. figure out who.
J: ok, thanks. By the way, my name's Jordan.
S: Nice to meet you, wish you luck :)"
I slide my communicator into my pocket.
Intercept the coma...
Who?
Who would do this?
Mianite?
No, no. Who, then?

----

AW SNAP!
Huehuehue
This story's so much fun!
Do you guys like the reality POV's or the coma POV's better? Just curious~
Anyways,
*strums Mexican guitar, looks at Color and says, "I'm not going to make any faces at you, or slap you with this guitar. This time"*
PEACE!
~Smart

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