*Arrow*

*Chapter 7*

     I don't know how long I sat in that room, crying out every last drop of water in my body. It could have been minutes, hours, days. But after a while time began to lose meaning to me, and I couldn't have cared less. What was the point of caring anymore?

     Letting out a long sigh, I rolled over onto my back and fixed my eyes on the ceiling. What did I ever do to deserve this? I mean, I'll be the first one to admit that I'm not perfect, that I slip up sometimes. But to be stuck in a magic land with no way out? Not fair at all. And what about my family?

     Thinking about that made my dry eyes fill with more tears, which I thought were long gone. Well . . . what about them? My mother and Jason? What would they do when I wasn't heard from or seen in days? Weeks? Months? Years? Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but I couldn't help thinking "what if". Would my mom call the police if she even noticed? Would Jason try to search for me?

     Would they be brought to this world, too?

     Oh, god, I thought, a shiver convulsing through my body. Don't you even go there.

     I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't. Ever.

     A soft but persistant knocking at the door pulled me out of my pity party. Reluctantly I sat up, wiping my eyes and groaning as my back cracked in several places. "Sean," I growled, "I swear, of you take one step inside the door I'll-"

     "I'm not Sean," a female voice cut in, a Spanish accent coloring her voice.

     "Oh, sorry," I apologized insincerely. "Come in."

     A young girl cautiously made her way into the room, her feet dragging on the carpet. She looked to be about my age, but she was way prettier. A thick, dark brown curtain of hair framed her face, reaching down to her tiny waist. She had that impossibly smooth skin that every girl would kill for, paired with high cheekbones and shell pink lips. And her eyes! They reminded me of Sean's - big and bright, but gray instead of blue. In fact, she resembled Sean so much that she could've been his sister.

     "Hi," she said, making me realize I had been awkwardly staring at her. "You're Nicole, right?"

     "Who are you?"

     The girl didn't even bat an eyelash at my rude question. "I'm Marisol Criado. Your servant."

     I rolled my eyes and smirked. As if a girl with those looks was going to work for me. "Ha! Funny. Now really, who are you?"

     She smirked right back at me. "My name is Marisol Criado, and I'm your servant."

     We stared at each other for five intense seconds until I shrugged. "Okay. If you say so."

     With a look of sympathy of her face, Marisol came to sit next to me on the bed. She did it in a non-intimidating way, but I still resisted the urge to scoot away from her. Almost as if she was reading my mind, she said, "You don't trust me, do you?"

     Her question caught me off guard, and I found myself at a loss for words. She had voiced my thoughts exactly, even if I didn't want to hear them.

     Marisol chuckled at my silence. "I thought so. I didn't expect you would, actually."

     "Why?" I asked, slightly offended.

     "Judging by what Sean told us about you, you're quite a strong character. Confident, I think is what he said. Stubborn."

     "Now, that one I agree with," I muttered. "Why did he tell you all of this?"