Abducted

13. Revenge is Sweet

Over the next few days my mom and sister visited me. I listened closely to the nurses' conversations, hoping Sam was alive. And then I'd get my revenge.

I had to stay at the hospital for a few weeks, until my stitches healed. Mentally and phisically, until I was stable enough to go home. My doctor (his name is crazy long and very hard to pronounce, so I just call him Doctor) made me see a therapist, Dr. Maydew. She was nice, but resurfacing all those nights I spent drenched in fear was terrifing. Mostly, I just slept the days away.

"Miss Thorn," a nurse called in, "time for your meds." I attempted to sit up, getting half way there and giving up. The nurse handed me a disposable cup and a baggie, which contained colored pills. I swallowed them and gagged at the after taste. It had a rotten fish flavor, and no one, I repeat no one, likes rotten fish. Dr. Maydew entered.

"'Ello Emily!" she said. Someone was awfully cheery. "I have come to a conclusion, you are mentally stable enough to leave the hospital!" I wonder if she doesn't like me... "You will leave tomorrow afternoon." Dr. Maydew finished.

"Is Sam still alive?" I wondered aloud.

"Er, yes." Good, I made Maydew uncomfortable.

"When is he getting out?" I asked, making my voice waver. Maydew didn't answer, but found the bathroom door very interesting. "Maydew!" I snapped.

"Next week," she whispered, "but he is going straight to jail, I promise."

"Off with his head!" I yelled, thrusting my fist in the air. Oh, how I love the Queen of Hearts. Maydew pulled out a walkie-talkie thing-a-ma-gig and hit a blue button on it.

A nurse walked in with a silver tray that held syringes. She picked one up that held a clear liquid and I squirmed as she inserted the needle in my arm. The bright room faded to black.

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ANNA'S POV

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I shot awake, trying to sit up but banging my head on something. I was in a shady room, full of hospital beds. Some of the beds were occupied by people. Others were not.

And that's when I smelled the worst thing possible, death. I knew the smell from being held captive by Sam. I looked over to see Derik. Blood pasted his hair to his forehead. His shirt was stained with blood.

I must've been in a coma, and I prayed that Derik was too. I wouldn't be able to survive without my brother. I needed out of here, and fast.

"Hey!" I yelled, "I'm down here!"