Redesign Me, State of the Art (Jalex)

On The Other Side Of A Jet Black Hotel Mirror

Jack’s POV

The only thing I was able to concentrate on was the ungodly throbbing in my head. Any movement made only increased the pain so I opted to lay still. I could hear voices talking around me, but kept my eyes closed. The whole situation bared a strong resemblance to the nurse’s office at school a few weeks ago and I wondered how many times I was going to wake up with a beating skull at an unknown location.

"He’s stable."

"His levels seem to be normal as well."

"Good, he should be waking up soon."

"Jack!"

The last voice was more muffled than the rest, but caught my attention. The others I weren’t able to place, but I would know my name tumbling out of his lips anywhere. The call was accompanied by a pounding that I didn’t recognize as my own head. It sounded like someone was beating against a plexiglass window a room over. I heard a door close and when I eventually peeled my eyes open, I discovered that that’s exactly what it was.

The bed I was laying on was centered in the middle of a dreary grey room. The living space was pretty devoid of any other decorations and the only thing astonishing about it was the giant plexi glass window that took up the entire left wall. A similar room was mirrored on the other side of the glass. The only difference being that its inhabitant was Alex. He was not in any sort of dire medical condition that required tubing. This, I was happy about. 

What I was not happy about was my obvious need for medical attention. A quick glance to my arm revealed that I was connected to wires and tubes up the wazoo. Everything was a blur of confusion and pain. I remembered dropping the ties and then Alex and then…..

Nothing. There was nothing past that point. I assumed it had something to do with my headache and I was in desperate need of some answers. I reached up instinctively when a flash of pain shot through my brain and felt cotton around my forehead. The bandage seemed to circle the entirety of my head.

Alex noticed my movement and changed his position from sitting apathetically on the couch to pounding on the glass again.

"Jack? Jack can you hear me?"

I was about to answer him when the door across the room opened and in stepped the man from Alex’s living room. I scrunched closer to the top of my bed, trying to get as far away from him as possible. My scrawny knees were gripped by one of my arms, the other held out and pointing in his direction.

"Get away from me," I hissed. It was surprising to me how much this encounter was similar to our last one, where I demanding that he step away from Alex.

"Don’t you dare fucking touch him!" Alex yelled from the other side of the glass.

"My, I simply walked into the room. What a reaction. I haven’t even done anything yet," the man defended himself.

"You hit him over the head with a goddamn tire iron you bastard!" Alex shouted, throwing a futile punch against the see-through divider.

"WHAT?" I asked incredulously. I didn’t think it was possible, but my body shrank into itself even more.

"Ok, that is true. But to be fair-"

"There is no 'fair'! You attacked him with a blunt object! You should go to fucking jail!" Alex was tearing his throat apart and probably bruising his knuckles on the glass.

"Oh you want to talk about jail?" the man’s demeanor suddenly changed. He moved from his position in the doorframe to over where Alex was standing. "How about the cars you two stole, hm? Or what about the fake IDs, bank accounts, and let’s not forget running away from government agents?"