The Safety Dance - Nick Clark

Epilogue

He knew it even through the horrendous pain shooting through his forehead Nick just sat, staring at the ground as they read to him. Read to him the things they've done and the things they have planned. His hands and feet tied to his chair and tape over his mouth he didn't seem to care anymore. It's been a week since they let him see her; his best friend. He couldn't tell if he was going through withdrawal or just plain insane. They read aloud to him, giving him the rules that he's heard many times over since he was shot.

All he really remembers was the sound of the gun and then he's been here for days on end without her. They were nearing the end of the list as he expected and they closed the door behind them. He listened over an inner com "It's happening tomorrow. We'll let you see her then." the room feel silent but for his mumbles through the tape.

-

It was time. Twelve days locked away in a room after being shot Nick could only wonder what they meant. He hadn't been fed the last two weeks and you could tell just how much damage it has done to him by his sunken cheeks. They held him while walking to a smaller room. "Where is she?" he asked backing away from them "Amy. Where's my girlfriend?" he wrapped himself in his arms and stepped behind an operating table.

"Oh, we let her go days ago." the woman chuckled loudly as she set a knife down. "We let her go and she left willingly. A surprise to us too so don't feel to bad." she slammed the door shut and stood there with a man. They stepped closer to him and held a cloth to his mouth and as he slowly lost himself he didn't fight. He just let it happen as he though of what they said about Amy.

-

He woke himself up coughing, he leaned over the side of his bed and threw up. "That's gross. Could have at least done it in the bowl." A small woman set a plate of food down and left the room. A mild headache and an empty stomach never worked well with each other so he sat back and covered himself in the thin blanket they gave him. He thought to himself that he'd rather be dead, now he wished that the crash had killed him in the first place he wouldn't be here, alone.

He ran his hands over his face sighing and stopped when he felt thin lines on his forehead. His eyebrows furrowed and he stood up gently, trying not to throw up again. He wrapped himself in the blanket and made his way over to the mirrored wall. He froze instantly, his mouth fell slightly open as he reached up and felt the thin scars forming a "W" on his skin.

-

A/N: I'm sorry, Again.