The New Me

Back On My Feet

I was sitting in my chair in the old hideout alone, looking at my almost healed hands. The moment would replay in my head over and over everytime I thought if her. Where was she? Was she dead? Did they kill her? Was it slow and painful? Was she in prison with the rest of them?

I remembered hearing her yell after the crash before I blacked out. It's a good thing my B team was standing nearby or I would have never made it out alive. When they brought me back to the hideout I was in so much pain, but as the months went by, they healed. I had a little scarring on my left hand, but it was barely noticeable. I felt a tear run down my face as I thought of that night they had to share the bed together. I told her to not make it weird, but she did. I watched her the entire night, as she slept. I thought about the time I had to wake her up, because she was mumbling my name as she was having a nightmare. Another tear sneaked it's way down my cheek, but I didn't bother to wipe it away.

"Where are you?" I asked myself as I hit my head back against the headboard behind me.

I heard the closed bedroom door open, and immediately picked the gun up that was sitting on the bed next to me. Pointing it at the door, I looked to the bed, not wanting him to see my face.

"Sir, we found her."

I didn't care anymore. If he told anyone what he saw, I'd know what to do. Slowly turned my head to face him, and stared him in the eye,

"Where is she?"