Reckless Serenade

ten | quinn

x. in which quinn stevens becomes a charity case

• • •

IT WAS DARK; blackness overwhelmed my senses, dragging me into a swarm of frustration and nervousness. My feet were hitting against the pavement, the only sound resonating in the otherwise desolate area. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know why I was running.

I was aware of everything: the blood rushing through my ears, the heavy panting coming from my throat, the overwhelming sensation of being closed in on at all sides. The anxiety began to bubble up, but there was no way to prevent it. Beneath me the pavement grew close as I felt myself falling, having tripped over a slight crack along the sidewalk.

I let out a strangled scream, the cry ripping out of my throat as pain shot up from my twisted ankle to my nerves. Hitting the ground with a muted thud, I lurched into a fetal position and cradled my injured foot, looking around blindly.

The black veil began to lift, revealing my surroundings. The pavement had disappeared, making me seem as if I was floating over nothing but emptiness. It became clear that I was trapped in a see through box; I looked past the translucent walls to find pairs of eyes staring intensely in my direction.

I could pick out Tanya, her amber gaze mixed with empathy as she laid a hand on Jared's shoulders. My mentor had his head hung in shame, stepping back to reveal the two people I despised most in the world.

They stood side to side, shoulders touching, their lips pressed into taut lines. Her auburn hair was wavy, settling in angry tendrils around her collarbone. She was in the same outfit she wore when I last saw her; a dark grey business skirt with a white blouse. His black hair was spiked to perfection, as pointed as a cactus prick. Dressed in the same style as the woman beside him, his suit was pin striped and declared power.

In their hands were silver remotes. I watched in horror as they pressed down on the buttons simultaneously, and a loud creak followed. The box that held me shrunk by a few inches, and I felt my heart seize. Claustrophobia began to kick in.

They pressed their buttons again, making the box grow smaller and smaller. I pounded at the concaving walls, screaming my throat raw and bruising my fists. Still, they would not stop. I was crying now, begging them to stop. They didn't. The box was now pushing me to my knees, drawing me further and further into the ball I had created myself. The walls pushed on my body, the pain increasing as the pressure grew.

Feeling my bones begin to cry out in agony, I let out a final, bloodcurdling scream.

"Quinn! Quinn!" Jared's frantic voice had my eyes snapping open in an instant. I flew upright, feeling the hoarseness of my throat from the scream that rippled from the nightmare and into reality. I was panting, breathing raggedly as I clawed at my black tank top, leaving angry red scratches in the skin.

"Stop!" Jared demanded, grabbing my hands and enclosing them in his fists as I fought back. The ghost of the pressure was sending tingling sensations down my back; I still felt as if I were trapped inside the box with my parents sneering down from above. It took far too long to realize that I wasn't, and that I was back in the real world. More specifically, my room.

It was small, meant to be a study or a storage closet. When I first moved in with Jared, it took a while to get used to the cluttered and dimly lit space, which was far from the spacious area I was granted with back in my actual home. The walls were painted a warm soothing ivory with black vines cascading down the corners. The window jutted out, so that I could sit in the middle on the little bench that was built into the walls and just watch the people walk on the pavements down below. Furniture was scarce with the exception of the necessities: bed, closet, desk, my suitcase.