That's Very Me

There

A brilliant blue flash of light lit up Donna's bedroom. The woman shrieked, jerking upright in bed and searching desperately for a weapon. She didn't have to worry. The figure dropped uselessly to the carpet, unconscious. Donna warily climbed from bed and grabbed a vase. She nudged the person and jumped back, as if expecting them to attack. The figure didn't move. Donna cautiously rolled the figure over. It was a girl, she was blonde, quite pretty, or she would have been, had it not been for the long cut down her face, four of them actually, making it hard to tell who she was. That wasn't all though. More claw like wounds were on her body. One from her shoulder across the top of her chest and a smaller wound across one arm. Bruising and angry, red, burned skin was visible. Donna was horrified. The girl grabbed Donna's arm suddenly. Donna nearly shrieked again.

"You can't take me to a hospital, please..." The girl lost her fight and sunk into unconsciousness. She had no clue what to do. She searched through the girl's pockets, looking for anything to identify or get help. She found a phone and a wallet. The wallet had a lot of cash, debit cards and IDs for different people shoved into it. The phone was dead, completely useless, but it didn't even look modern. Donna kept searching, looking for anything that would tell her what to do. Tucked in between the very last of the IDs were two heavily folded pictures. The edges were worn, telling Donna that the pictures were looked at often. The first was of the girl and two men, one in leather and the other in a World War II era coat. Both looked as if she was the most important thing in the universe. The second was of a familiar man and the girl, who wore a familiar top. Donna's throat went dry. On the back of the first picture was a phone number. She fumbled for her cell phone and called it.