[ COMPLETED ]
Lilliana has spent most of her life - ten years, to be exact - in the M.S.P. When she is finally rescued, normal life isn't what she thought it to be. Will she ever figure out her destiny and save the Order of the Wicked?
•••
{the fa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The story was told to certain few the day after it happened.
Dr. Gwen was in the Healing Ward where the doctors were about to put him to sleep for attacking one of the chosen. Just when they were about to give him the first shot, Madame Lee slammed into the room, making the double doors slam against the rust colored walls as if to create a dramatic entrance. "You can't waste innocent lives," she had announced.
"But he attempted to murder one of the chosen," remarked the head doctor.
"It wasn't his fault," retorted Madame Lee, "Take an x-ray of his brain. You will find a brain chip implanted there by the Rosary Kingdom. Marigold's scientists have been feeding him instructions and have been controlling his every move since yesterday. Remove it and he will become the innocent man that he is."
"How do you know this?" one of the nurses had questioned.
Madame Lee glared at her. "My reflection never lies," she stated coldly and with that, she had exited, the doors swinging shut behind her. The Healing Team was smart and followed her instructions. Sure enough, they found a brain chip and immediately removed it. They gave the computer scientists the chip for further investigation. Meanwhile, Dr. Gwen was left to recover, a huge bald spot and scar on the side of his head. He was lucky to be alive and owed Madame Lee his life. "Don't waist it on me," she had told him, "Use it for someone worthwhile." Later in our story, he did, in fact, use it on someone worthwhile, but now we're just ahead of ourselves.
Now, a day later, I stood by his bedside.
"Lilliana, I am so, so sorry," he told me sincerely, "I feel terrible."
"But it wasn't your fault," I protested.
"Doesn't mean I don't feel awful about it," Dr. Gwen remarked, taking one of my hands in both of his own.
Crowose entered the room just then to check on her fiancé's recovery and wellbeing. She sat on the foot of his bed, tickling Dr. Gwen's feet. Dr. Gwen squirmed, trying to hold his laughter in. "How are you feeling, honey?" she asked, now massaging his feet instead of tickling.
"I feel horrible about what happened," answered Dr. Gwen. The couple acted like I wasn't there, though I didn't mind, even though it was kind of awkward.
Crowose smiled, her eyes full of sympathy, in response.
I had gotten no injuries from the incident unless you count a small headache and a mouth full of dirt. At least this attempted murder had brought Taylor and me together again; she realized that she had been acting stupid and didn't want me to die with our last conversation an argument. At least, that's what I picked up from her apology.
Andy had also come to me to say that the next day would be our test to figure out what weapon we would have for the war. That had been yesterday.
