"This is what she had become."
=====
Cleopatra Banks' last week in the small town of New Chelsea is nothing like she would have imagined it, but nothing could have prepared her for the stinging betrayal she's faced with and suddenly the prospect of...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Darkness.
"How could you be so stupid? Didn't you think that something like this would happen?"
Pain. So much pain.
"How was I supposed to know that...urgh! This is so confusing, what the hell do we do now?"
Everything hurts.
"You can't ask me that question, this is all your fault!"
Someone's groping me.
"How's it my fault?"
Someone's shaking me. I can't move.
"Cleopatra, Cleopatra you have to wake up. Listen to me, Cleopatra your life is in danger wake up!" someone whisper yells into my ear.
By some miracle, I manage to flutter my eyes open and focus on the figure hovering above me. There's not much light in here so I'm only met with a hooded figure.
It's only when the unknown person throws their hands into my boobs that I let out a yelp and a hand comes to rest on my mouth quickly.
"Shut up, I'm trying to help you," she says. I know it's a she because the voice sounds oddly familiar, a little like mine. Everything is all a mess in my head and I can't comprehend much except for the fact that I'm in a dark cave with a complete stranger who claims to be helping me while far away voices argue over something.
One of those voices sounds oddly like Buttercup's and quickly, images begin flashing in my mind. There was a pale woman and a cloth and man handling and a locked door and I quickly remember what happened and where I was but I have no idea how I got here or what's happening.
My head begins to pound as loud as my heart and just as I'm about to move, figuring that I've been kidnapped and the most logic response would be to run, a bright light goes off and my phone screen illuminates the face of this unknown stranger.
I feel the blood draining from my face when I lay my eyes on a pair of familiar hazel eyes, the same eyes that mom has and for a moment it all feels like I'm dreaming.
She's furiously typing away on my phone with so much concentration that she doesn't notice when I stretch out my hand to touch her face.
She's real. It's her. Dressed in a hoodie.
"Isabella?"
A painful look flashes across her face and she scowls at me before slapping my hand away.
"There's no time for this. Get up and run as fast as you can, get away from those two before they do something to you," she orders me, then tosses the phone aside.
"What? What's going on? Isabella you're dead!" I say, more to myself than to her.
"There's no time for this," she says through gritted teeth and places an arm around my shoulder.
