The Ones Left Behind [Brock a.u]

the Message

It's when I'm lying down, after being fed and hydrated, that I'm finally able to process the last few days I've endured. Sleep was usually my safe haven, whilst the process falling asleep was not. That's when all of my struggles seemed to surface, in the dead of night, knowing I was all alone. And utterly afraid. The team of angels in the camp were scattered in every direction trying to accomplish something that I was not sure of.

I knew I was exhausted, but my racing thoughts wouldn't let my eyes shut for more than a few seconds before terrifying images would corrupt my mind.

I don't remember falling asleep until the blackness fades into a smokey grey light, and there's the shadow of a person in front of me. A ghost. The ghost was more silent than the grave it arose from, staring with heavy lidded eyes and a slack mouth. It was the ghost from the tunnel. Her cheekbones accentuated the skeletal look and in her gaze my mind was robbed of emotion. Instead of running, or screaming I stood more still than the mossy statue in the heart of the graveyard and just as cold. She beckoned with fingers that rapidly faded to only a suggestion of form. I passed each gravestone unknowingly without taking account of the path until I stood in a place that was unrecognizable. She became more solid again, but this time her skin bore many silver scars, thick and jagged. I began to think new things, "I want to stay with the angels." The thought became a desire and my insides lit with an intensity to make it possible. Then I see nothing, and I have the strongest sensation that I'm falling. But before I land, my eyes open and the feeling is gone.

Though my eyes are open I can't think of why; my heart is pounding, mind empty. It as if my body has been ripped from slumber. I strain into the utter darkness, begging my breathing rate to steady. It was then I heard Colby shout my name, over and over, hands on my shoulders. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing would come. He was frantic, yelling, scared.

"Where...where am I?" I was finally able to get my mouth to catch up with my brain, and from the sweat dripping down my forehead in thick beads, it took everything in me. I was disoriented and not familiar with the area of Camp I seemed to have found myself at even with Sam's attempt at showing me around earlier. Colby's interest in me left as soon as he knew I had food and water leaving me to my own devices. Which has been proven to never be a good thing. I was nervous and new, and the looks all the angels were giving me were making me extremely self-conscious. Thankfully, Sam appeared out of nowhere like he knew Colby would disappear leaving me to fend for myself. Which I was completely capable of doing, but it doesn't mean I wanted to. At least not with all the all powerful entities surrounding me on all sides. I was all alone. Again.

It was unsettling, and I was beginning to fear the very thing that once been an escape for me from the harsh realities of everyday life. My dreams were beginning to affect me, way more than a typical dream or nightmare should: drastically. They were growing stronger, apparently enough to make me sleepwalk, and I had a sneaking suspicion angrier at my refusal to cooperate with whatever nonsense they were trying to convey to me.

Through the darkness I could sense the worry radiating from Colby's body without his utterance of a single word. My complete confusion makes me grow mad at his silence and refusal to explain.

"What am I doing here?!"

"I was hoping you could answer that..." I follow his eyes to the abandoned graffiti ridden wall. A small knife in his hand.

"I.... I wrote that?"

"What are you both doing out here?!" It was Sam. The usual peace and serenity that follows him was of no help to me. I was stricken with a foreboding terror, and if the looks on their faces were of any indication, so were they. "Get her out of here before the others come."