HIS MISTAKE.

Chap.5 LOST and somewhat FOUND

It hurts, i shouted. 

'You're hurting me' 

The tall figure towered me, a dark shadow casting his face, a dark shimmer glimmering in his eyes. Those were the only things visible, the eyes. Not even, just the small, ash colored pupils

The figure had a grip on my arm, a tight uncomfortable grip. One that makes you feel trapped in your own body and mind, one that makes you feel like your whole life was threatened. Don't ask me how i know that feeling, i wouldn't be able to recall any of it.

'Then don't cry. Just smile and lie'  

'Please, just let me...go' I had only now realized how different my voice was. How small it came out, how painful it felt to talk, like it was of a child's, a little girl perhaps. One around the age of 6 or 7... I wasn't 6 or 7, i was 17. so why was my voice so light and scared, one of a frightened little girl.

The grasp around my wrist tightened, and the figure twisted my fragile arm, making me yelp in surprise. My arms burned in pressure, and my cry didn't even make it consider. It twisted it further, further and further. Until a bone chilling crack became audible...

'Dad!'

I was in utter shock of the word i had just said, 'dad'. Why would i say that, why would it come out of me. And then, in a matter of seconds, the grip was gone. I fell backwards, pulsing into a room. A large room it was, i fell in the middle.

There were huge lights and hundreds of people in fancy suits and dressed, just watching me from their pristine chairs. They weren't surprised, they were amused. The loud laughter and chuckles filled my head like a water pouring in a glass, however this glass was overflowing. I stood up, turning my head every direction i could muster. Spinning around to see every single person seeing me.The people, they all wore blue gloves, they all held a blue syringe. Why were they dressed in nice suits, and nice dresses, when they had needles and gloves? What were the needles for?

A tug on my shoulder, made me quickly view a man, a pale man with briskly ash hair. He was laughing among the others too, he had a blue plastic glove and a blue needle too. 

'What a lovely daughter you have, don't you Scott!' His voice was like a spokes person you would hear at a baseball game, where the guy would announce every action the player did. Every movement, was recorded by that one high pitched cheery voice.

'Such a shame she has to leave so soon' And before i knew, that man had stabbed the needle right into my shoulder. I screamed a blood curdling scream as loud as i could, it hurt...

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I woke up panting and sweating, my mouth dry and sticky. It all felt way too real, it all felt way to real, it all felt... My hands quickly went up to my shoulder, rubbing at my sweater over top, as if it was going to sting or hurt. It didn't, my shoulder my arm, they were normal. Except the cuts and bruises, but those weren't from my dream....dream

It was a dream, about who? My dad? Who was Scott? Why can't i remember my father's face, why can't i remember anything i ever did with him. Everything left my head, like a lost, forgotten memory. I couldn't picture how he looked or how he sounded, even the voice in my dream suddenly left. I had a dad, that i know. He was tall..short, loud, quite, old, young, scary, friendly?!! I couldn't remember, but i could remember my mother, every inch of her i remembered. I could remember her soft hands that tuck me to sleep, her hushed voice that lulled my dreams. Her long brown hair that she used to pin up, her beautiful blue eyes, daring me to love. I could remember everybody, but not my father.