Undivided [Book Three] COMPLETED

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Day One

White. Charlotte was suffocating in white. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, the door, her clothes. The only color she saw was her skin and hair, and it was her only anchor.

She didn't know where she was, and soon started to doubt that she was even alive. Heaven looks a little bland. She thought, then despite all that she's been through, she snorts at her own comment. I should be a comedian.

Were her friends alive? She had absolutely no clue. She would like to think that if Newt died, she would be able to feel it, be able to notice a shift in the environment, in her heart. Newt. Where was he? What was he doing? She guilty thought, why hasn't he come to save me, then hastily pushed it out of her mind.

The ginger stood up from the corner and stretched, cracking her back. She sighed, her arms swaying back and forth. There's got to be a way out of here. This must be a test or something along the lines.

With that in mind, she began her search. Unfortunately, it didn't take long to come to a conclusion. There were no cracks or soft spots in the walls, and the door looked to be sealed shut, with no door knob on her side. She knocked on it, and a metal boom echoed deeply throughout the tiny room. She tried banging on it, grabbing at it, and clawing at it, and despite her relentlessness, the damn door didn't budge. She sighed in defeat and moved on to the next option.

Which was to sit there until someone came to get her. She curled into a ball, cold seeping into her bones. She shivered, put her head between her knees, and begged to be rescued soon from this already impending hell hole.

Hours later, she came into a brief contact with a human. A slot in the middle of the door that she hadn't noticed before flipped open. A tray full of food slid in, and she took it hastily, throwing it to the floor and flinging herself to the slot. She got her face right up against it, and instantly recoiled when something came chuting at her. She winced and grabbed at what was hurled at her. A blanket that seemed to be very compact. While she was distracted, a water bottle with no label was thrown in. In her last desperate attempt, she narrowed in on the door.

"Please," She said weakly, trying to fake being sick. The only reply she received was her quick breathing. She groaned and leaned against the wall in defeat.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her heart. No, over it. She grabbed the collar of the shirt and brought it down. Directly over her heart was a perfect circle of charred skin that was trying to scab up.

Day Five

"You guys seriously aren't gonna let me take a shower? I stink!" She yelled out, no response. "Well, guess you guys will just have to deal with it then!"

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Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. . . . . Teresa? Nah, I just want Tom. Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. ThOmAs.

Day Eleven

The ginger pounded on the door viciously. "Let! Me! The! Fuck! Out!" She yelled, tears cascading down her face. "Please!" As always, no one answered her cries.

Tommy, please help me.

Day Sixteen

Screams erupted from her throat like a volcano as she banged her fists against the door. She pounded away for hours on end, begging for someone to come and help her.

Hours later, she had officially lost her voice. She tried to whisper for help, but nothing came out. Her banging had caused her to receive a new wrist cast through the food slot. She tried to reach her fingers out and through the slot, but the flap shut and squished her fingers. She yelled out, but only a squeak was heard.