Blue Pulse

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Caroline

I turn around trying to find Wyatt, I expect to find his familiar face immediately. But when I turn, all I see are the cameras.

I want to yell out his name and hope he hears me, but something is holding me back.

I hear two boys coming up from behind me, they run right through me as they chase each other around the market. I lose my balance and fall onto the dust and dirt. No one seems to notice I fell making me feel quite small and irrelevant.

I feel pain shooting through my leg, looking down, my eyes see the problem. Apparently when I feel, some sort of glass or metal fragment got jammed in my knee. The piece made a thin sliver of a cut but it went deep. My eyes water but I don't cry. What good would it do me anyway?

Wyatt, where are you?

My knee hurts even more and I begin to doubt if I can stand up. I think about Wyatt so much it begins to hurt.

Your sister is cut, and lost in a supermarket, why aren't you here?! Why aren't you making a bigger effort?

I wince from the pain as I make an effort to stand up, my knee bends and I have to cup my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. I fall back to the ground, leaning against a small basket of trinkets, for support.

Quit it, you're not hurt and it's just a little cut, I tell myself.

I've gone through much worse, this is no different than the occasional 'falling off the hover board' thing.

A real bad cut is when you're five years old and you and your brother are playing by a canal, and you fall in. No parents around to supervise, or help you. When you try to grab hold of something, and your hand slips, causing your head to hit the metal tube sticking out at the end, slicing your forehead open. That is a bad cut.

I get up and stagger around hoping to find a friendly face somewhere in the crowd. I glance down toward my knee, I really need to get medical help or something, infection will soon set in and it won't be pretty.

The swarm of news reporters has faded, probably giving up, but I still am lost in the bustling supermarket.

I try pulling back my hair that flies in front of my face. The rush of people coming from all directions whether it be necessary or not. My throat is dry as I cough, only getting the warm, foul air into my lungs.

Looking up, I see the huge, industrial sized fans whir away, blowing air down on the crowd in the building. Of course it's not helping much considering how many people are in this one market at a time.

Focus, Caroline!! You should be finding Wyatt, not admiring ceiling fans!

Wyatt, please, find me. I don't feel like getting through this crowd alone, I plead, knowing that I may as well give up.

I am already beginning to lose hope that we will find each other within the hour, but I'm interrupted in my thinking by a tight grasp on my hand. Without thinking, my reflexes kick in, my free arm swings around and hits him hard on the jaw. He drops my hand and puts both over his mouth protectively. I regret punching him instantly.

"Caroline! What the hell was that for?!" Wyatt yells, massaging the growing welt forming on his cheek. I think he might hit me back.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I thought your were-," I say sarcastically while a bit of relief washes over me now that I've found him.