Dream Catchers ( Slow updates )

Chapter 4

SILVER

Was I...dead?

The soft distant murmuring around me seemed to prove otherwise. Unless they were also dead. I feel myself chuckle at the thought, it was a silent chuckle and probably just happened inside my head. I focus on the sounds, too afraid to open my eyes and see that heaven is not exactly what I imagined it to be. Or worse, I could wake up and be halfway around the world.

Yikes.

I try to move my arms discreetly, feeling the weight of a heavy slumber leave my limbs. How long was I out? What kind of drug did they use on me? The murmurs seized and I hold myself still. What if they noticed me moving? I strain to hear the voices but was met with nothing but silence and the sound of crickets. Oh god. This was like the foundation of every nightmare I had as a kid. Growing up, my parents always warned me of the dangers of the world. I wish dad was here right now. I hear a faint rustle of feet before a cool breeze sweeps over me, for just a moment.

I count to 15... 30, before I open my eyes to tiny, hopefully unnoticeable, slits. Well, this doesn't help much especially if you have crappy eyes like mine. I risk it and open my eyes wider. Above me was what looked like the middle of a tent. Was I inside a tent? I blink slowly before my eyes finally adjust to the dim light, although it seemed blurry, it was clear that I was inside a large tent. Its flaps moving in and out slowly with its battle with the wind outside. I turn my head to the other side and make out a vague figure on what appeared to be a cot, beside me. I immediately assumed it was a girl, with her chestnut hair falling loosely around her. Sweet potatoes, was I being trafficked? Don't they have standards anymore?

I push myself up slowly on my elbows, hoping I don't make a sound that would most likely be the reason for my own death, and scan the large tent around me. It was simple, probably set up in a hurry, but orderly nonetheless. Beside the cot I was lying in was a small wooden table, a lamp flickering noiselessly on top it. I bite back the cry of pain as it shoots up my spine and resonates on the back of my head, a switch to my memory.

I remember now. I remember being in the library. I remember the odd janitor, the weird markings on the paper. Diyos ko, George! I reach up to the back of my head and find my wound neatly bandaged. My fingers go up my hair and find the tangled ends. Now this, was no surprise. I close my eyes, feeling the effects of sleeping too much, I fight back a groan. What in the world did they give me?

I suddenly remember the girl on the other bed and I turn to look at her again, my eyes flickering briefly on the tent's entrance. Could she be a victim too? With all the courage and strength  I could muster, I take hold of the lamp, hoping it would somehow be useful as a weapon and swing my legs over the bed. The world spins for a moment before my mind is clear again. My feet touches a soft carpet and I realize I was barefoot. Great. Half-blind, barefoot and dirty. I can't even begin to imagine what I smell like. I tiptoe across the tent and hover over the sleeping figure, squinting and leaning over to get a better look. She was probably my age, fair skin, long nose. Definitely not Filipino. How unlucky the two of us are. I notice her covered with bandages, on her ribs, her arms. Her shirt was stained with blood and my stomach bubbles with worry. Somehow, this girl was probably my only chance of living through this. What happened to her? And who caused it? Beside her cot was the same round table, with what appeared to be herbs on top of it. I take one, lifting it to my nose and take whif, almost coughing in the process. What the hell?

The loud murmurs froze me in place as I spin to stare at the tent's entrance. The grip on the lamp tightens and the very thought of this being the only chance me and this strange girl would escape clutches in my chest. I have to at least try. I scurry off near the tent's entrance, making sure I make no sound. I highly doubt I would be able to do something except piss them off more. I almost propel myself towards it as the flap opened briefly, only for a second, before it closed again. I hold my breath and listen to the voices outside. I frown upon realizing it was not a language I was familiar with and I was familiar with quite a few. The voices seemed to belong to men and my hope falters. They would toss me around like a rag doll. I lean close and listen.