Saving Madison

Chapter Eleven

Madison's p.o.v »»

Even though I didn't consume nearly as much as alcohol as everybody else, I still woke up with an intense headache. Struggling to sit up, I clutch my head in pain. My eyes squint when my sheer curtains are pulled back forcefully- my dark room instantly illuminating with sunlight.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" My mother says looking down at me with her hands on her hips.

I decided to play dumb, "Find out about what?"

"That you almost burnt the house down!" She yelled as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. My tense body immediately relaxed as her suspicion about the party was nowhere to be found.

I prop up on my elbows, "Oh, right," I said, "Sorry about that."

My mother sighs throwing her hands up in the air, walking out of my room in a frenzy, "Whatever, Madison, just don't let it happen again." She finally said from down the staircase.

I ran a hand through my messy hair, laying back down to fall back asleep.

"I want to hear the shower running in five minutes!" My mom ordered. I ignored her typical morning crankiness, forcing myself out of bed and into the bathtub. While waiting for the water to warm up, I stared at myself in the steamy mirror.

I sure looked pretty normal.

"Madison, hurry up in there!" My mom demanded, banging on the bathroom door.

I hurriedly washed my hair and scrubbed my body before my mind had time to register any more horrifying flashbacks. Walking out into the hall with my silk green robe on, I marched up to my mom with an angry look, "What is so important that I have to skip another hour of sleep?" I questioned, brushing through my tangled hair.

My mom ignored my previous question, chucking some clothes at my head, "Go get dressed, I'll answer your questions later."

I groaned extremely loud, earning a warning look from her. I shut my mouth and threw the casual clothes on inside the bathroom, walking back out to see an impatient looking Amanda Taylor.

"Ready?" She asked, tapping her foot.

I nodded following her out of the house, "Where are we going?" I asked, wasting no time to ask questions. This time, my mom groaned, "We're going to my workplace."

I tilted my head in confusion, "Um, why are we goin-"

"Just wait until we get there." She interjected sharply.

I complied, staring out the window the rest of the way.

When we arrived and stepped inside the expensive looking complex, I finally realized why being punctual and poised was so imperative to mom, as I glanced at all the faces we passed by in the narrow hallway. Mom's hand gripped mine while she pulled me through the nine story building. I hadn't opened my mouth since we got out the car.

"Here we are." She muttered to herself, dragging me into a conference room with important looking people. She lead me to a black spinning chair, sitting me down in it.

I looked perplexed at all the old people wearing lab coats, "Can someone tell me what's going on here?" I demanded, raising my voice.

The oldest looking one stood up, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, "Ms. Taylor we're here regarding your resurrection, if you're willing to hear." He stated trying not to bring up the gruesome details.

"I want to know, have you found any explanation for it?" I ask with a glint of hope in my eyes.

I saw my mom shift uncomfortably in her seat.