Curse of Pizarro

Chapter 16~ Wounded

"God you're a mess."

With great effort, I open my eyes to a white faced boy that looks all too familiar. The only contrast in his face was a smear of red across his cheek. His eyes that usually had a glint of mischief were desperate, gloomy.

I close my eyes. "You don't look so good yourself." The voice I heard wasn't my own. It was too raspy. Nothing fit together for me. Nothing about the situation seemed coherent.

"Don't say anything. Drink this." A cool liquid met my lips. Most of it ran down the side of my  face, but what entered mouth felt amazing.

I drifted back to sleep even though someone desperately kept trying to urge me not to.

*****

My entire body aches. It feels like one of those nights where I slept too long, and wake up feeling like I was hit by a train. At least that's how I image it feels.

"Juan, how long was I asleep?"

I open my eyes to the dark room. Sitting up I become light headed from the change in position. I could see in the dark that Jez wasn't sound asleep beside me, and there wasn't a bed where Juan would have been sleeping. I wasn't in the hotel room?

I look down at the king size bed I lay in. I was wearing Jez's bikini. I run my fingers through my wet hair and feel a bump on the side of my head. Bruises run up my forearm, and bandages cover my left calf.

Memories come shooting back to me in flashes. I remember jumping back into the water after Xavier was about to kill me, I went to hide in the secret room. I was waiting to be followed when the room seemed to shatter with me in it. I was  being crushed, then it got dark and the constricting loosed around me.

Where was I though?

The room is illuminated by faint light in the corner of the room. The Skype ring tone starts playing with a reject or accept button on the screen.

Without thinking, I crawl out of the bed and with labored steps, sit at the desk. Answering Skype is so normal for me since my parents always called from business trips.

The short walk from the bed to the desk felt like a marathon to me. I have to breathe through my mouth, so I can feel like I'm getting a sufficient amount of oxygen. Before I can answer the phone though, it picks itself up. I only stare at the computer screen blankly, mouth gaping.

"Yeah, I picked up for him. I swear if he's sleeping-" He stopped talking when the video feed appeared on its own, and he saw me. He had the same honey colored eyes as Drake, but his hair was straight and dark brown. Leaning closer he said, "That's not Drake. Guys, we really need to have a serious conversation with him about his 'crush'." He put air quotes around the word crush. I see the square in the corner that shows me my appearance, I looked lifeless. "I mean this blow up doll looks exactly like her." He gestures mostly to people outside the screen, not paying much attention to me.

I may be physically handicapped at the moment, but I'm not delusional, I hope. "What did you just say?" It was barely a whisper, but it was enough to get his attention.

"Holy shit she's real."

He's pushed out of the way by a girl that looks about fifteen, same age as the boy, her hair was curly, and dirty blonde like Drake's, but she had a streak of violet, and her eyes were a light blue. She yells, "Yes! You all owe me twenty bucks."

The small screen is suddenly filled with people. Everyone on the screen are all a different ethnicity, and age, except the similar two that look like Drake.

A black girl curses. "I thought he was going to wait!"

The girl with the violet streak retorts, "He is head over heels Uzoaku. He would of killed someone who stood in his way if he waited longer, I mean did you listen to what he said about the playground incident."