You Found Me

Chapter 2

Beep... beep... beep... beep...

There was an aggravating, continuous beeping sound next to my ear. I felt like I had been run over by a five tonne truck; twice.  My eyelids felt like they were stitched shut as I tried to open them- I couldn't.  My throat felt like it was made of sand paper and I couldn't make a sound- no matter how hard I tried.  My body was completely immobile as I was forced to listen to the beeping noise that pierced my skull like a knife.

"She's waking up!" Someone whispered excitedly from beside the bed, it sounded male- deep with a heavy accent- American? Canadian? The voice made me shiver- in a very good way and that scared me, I shouldn't be feeling anything, I should be dead.

I heard what sounded like the click of a door opening and closing, footsteps walking towards the bed.

Where was I?

I wasn't on the ground anymore- it felt too soft and warm and there were no pine needles or rocks poking into my battered body. Was this heaven? I doubted it, from the smell of antiseptic it smelt more like a... a hospital. That couldn't be right though- there wasn't anyone for miles and Paul had killed me, hadn't he?

My heartbeat picked up in my chest, as did the beeping; I was starting to panic a little; where was I? The unknown was terrifying; at least with Paul I knew what was going to happen. Everything else was uncertain; would I be in an even worse situation now? At least with Paul I would be able to leave once I turned eighteen, whether or not he followed was another question but I would soon be eighteen and he would have no legal hold over me; they couldn't force me back with him if I ran, though whether he would follow was an entirely different question. Now though, now I was in an unfamiliar place with no idea of who or what I was facing. I was scared.

I tried to open my eyes again, it was becoming a little easier, but it still felt like an impossible task.

It took another few minutes before I could properly open my eyes, when I did I was greeted by the sight of a white ceiling.

I moved my head to the side slightly, finding that my body was starting to wake up- thank god! I hate feeling, let alone being, helpless.

As my gaze drifted around the room to the door, my eyes landed on a chair that had been pulled up close to my bed, a leather jacket resting on the back.

Who would it belong too? I had no friends- Paul hadn't let me go to school and there had been no one around for miles. The only people, if you could call them 'people'- they were far too cruel, that I ever came into contact with now were him and his sick minded friends.

I don't think I could have handled being around people again- not even Matt or Jesse, not after what'd happened.

Matt was the best friend a girl could have- he was funny, kind and loyal. He was tall at 6'0"- taller than my 5'4" frame, with dark brown hair that he kept short in a shaggy style that really suited him, warm brown eyes, dimples, straight white teeth and a Hollywood smile that made all the girls swoon- me being the exception, because that would be weird. We were childhood best friends since the first day of kindergarten when he tripped over in the sandpit and destroyed my castle. I'd seen him at his best and I'd seen him at his worse.

Jesse was a different case though- he was older than his brother by a year, at nineteen- very serious, extremely smart and completely understanding of sarcasm. He had black messy hair, fudge brown eyes, a chiselled profile, straight nose and stood at around 6'3"- 6'4", making me look like a midget along with Matt's huge build. We had been friends since I was born- I, he and Matt were the three musketeers. He was on the soccer team along with Matt, but in the same grade because he started school late and been kept back in second grade- both were amazing soccer players and I used to love going to their games.