The Broken Crystal

Chapter Three

When the girl came back to her cell, Dean had nearly fallen asleep. This changed as soon as he heard the footsteps walking in his direction. Looking up, he saw the same guard that had taken the girl with him, return with her thrown over his shoulder.

After the man had opened the door, he walked in and lay the unconscious girl down on the floor. Dean tried to ask him a question, but his lips were glued together. His throat felt like sandpaper and Dean suddenly realized that he had not drunk anything the whole day. When he finally managed to open his mouth, the guard had already locked the door behind him and walked away.

Dean took in the body of the girl, noticing that her head was covered with strange purple and red marks. It made him wonder what was really happening in this place, and if the things that she had said was true. Was he really crazy?

No, he shook his head. There was something else, something bigger going on here, and he was determined to find out what.

♢♢♢

Crystal woke up a few hours later and by that time, the boy had also been taken away.

When she saw the empty cell, she instantly knew where they had taken him. Her heart clenched at the thought of what he might be enduring. The first experiments were always the most painful ones. She still remembered hers, even though she was very young when it happened.

Instinctively she touched the scar on her throat. It was light pink, almost white, and the stitches went all the way to the base of her neck. Every single time she brushed by it, the memory of the pain hit her so hard it felt like she was going through it all over again.

She didn't want to think of it, so she removed her hand before anything could happen, before time had the chance to turn back and force her to relive that gruesome day.

Time, she suddenly realized, was one of her worst enemies.

♢♢♢

Crystal had been staring at the wall for ages before the boy finally returned. This time, however, he didn't struggle against the guards, not even a little bit. It made Crystal nervous, though she didn't know exactly why.

Silently, Crystal watched the guards throw the boy into the cell, his body landing hard on the floor. Even though it must've hurt, Dean barely even flinched. Instantly Crystal knew that whatever they had done to him had been so painful that any other pain seemed insignificant in comparison.

After the guards locked the door, they disappeared into the darkness of the hallway, light chatter escaping their mouths and poisoning the air with its uselessness.

Crystal didn't pay them much thought and instead looked over at the boy. He opened his eyes and glanced back at her, but made no move to talk. Crystal let the silence hang in the air for a while, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she found herself wishing for it in her head. Finally, she decided to speak herself.

"Uhm, a-are you okay?" she asked, twinning her hair nervously. The boy didn't answer, just grunted and rolled over to his back, where he was left staring at the gray ceiling.

The silence was suffocating, which surprised Crystal as she had never really had a problem with it before. Usually, she preferred it more than anything. This time though, she desperately wanted it to go away, even if she had to be the one to break it. But what should she say?

A sudden thought popped into her head, something so obvious that Crystal felt stupid for not coming up with it earlier. "I-um, what's your n-name?" she asked. The boy frowned at her question, and probably at her stutter as well, but stayed silent.