Burn Me (A Shatter Me Series Sequel)

Two

I wake up to an ice-cold world. I notice that my hands are free. I notice there is a metal table next to me. And a glass of water on top. I take it, I smell it. I accept that it's safe, I'm way too thirsty anyway. I gulp the entire consistence of the glass and put it back on the table.

The coldness spreads inside me.

I feel hungry as well. I also feel curious as to how and when they got in the room without me noticing. I'm catch myself thinking whether or not it was her. Whether she was in my room while I slept. The thought unsettles me.

I start pacing around the room. I wish someone will come and explain things to me. I wish she would come. I chase the thought away. I see something strange out of the corner of my eye.

It's the door. Or more specifically, it's a key left in the lock by accident. No, not by accident, I remind myself. She wants me to get out. For a second I consider just staying in the room, not giving her the pleasure of playing by her rules. Then I realise that it's my best shot at finding the others. At getting out of here.

I got to the door. Get hold of the key. Turn.

The lock clicks

I open the door, slowly at first. I peek out but all I see is more white. I open the door completely then and I see a long hall. There are white doors lining both white walls and I feel suddenly blinded. My first thought is that perhaps Juliette is behind one of those doors. And James behind another. And Kenji behind a third. But I realise that it is not possible. First, because I could feel none of them and second, because she isn't that stupid. I decide to go to the left. Before I leave, I remember I'm unarmed. I walk back in and yank the leg of the metal chair. It'll have to do for the time being.

I walk to the end of the hall and take a left again. Everything looks the same and I'm afraid I won't be able to navigate myself any much longer without getting lost. I reach a dead end and decide to go back the way I came. I count doors, it's the only way to know where I am. I count thirty-seven doors before I know I've reached my own. I open it and see a three-legged chair lying on its side. I close the door, I turn around. And decide to go to the right this time.

It takes me twenty-three doors to reach a staircase. I climb up but at the end of it I see a door. It's more of a gate and has a massive old-fashioned lock on it. And if I know something about locked doors, it's that you should definitely see what's being hidden behind them.

I hit it with the metal leg. I hit it again. And again. And four more times. It's tough and the leg is bent but it falls to the floor. I smile through exhaustion. I crack the gate open and I'm suddenly stunned. There is no white, just black and red. I walk inside and take in this strange place. It looks like the floor I have just escaped but the walls are red. The doors, the ceilings are black. There is actually a fluffy black carpet on the floor. And there is an actual roses-pattern on it. This place has nothing sterile, it looks like home. I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the question What is this place?

I hear a breath behind me. I turn, the red and black swirling together. My first reaction is to swing with the metal leg. Her first reaction is to catch it.

Jasmine stares at me and I can't help but stare back. There's something about the intensity of her eyes that makes it impossible to look away. There's something strange about them.

"Let go." she says very slowly.

But I don't. I try to snatch it away from her. Her grip tightens and I feel the metal starting to heat up. I jerk my hand back when the heat becomes unbearable. She lets go too and the piece of metal clutters to the floor.

"No need of such violence." she steps away and motions with her hand to one of the doors in the hall. "Let's try to talk over a cup of tea and without trying to kill each other."

I'm suddenly struck by the oddness of the situation - me and her having tea, our feet on the fluffy carpet. Like we're old friends. Like we'll talk about movies and the news. Like I'm not a prisoner.

She starts walking to the door and I follow her. The room we enter looks like the hall - a lot of black - the marble floor, the ceiling, the table in the center of it. She walks to the kitchenette that was also fitted in the room. I don't even realise I'm thinking it until I say it aloud:

"If you have so many rooms, why would fit your kitchen and your dining area in so little space?"

I feel stupid the instant the words leave my mouth. She doesn't seem fazed though:

"You'd be surprised at how little capacity I use for actual living." she answers as she puts tea bags in the cups "I'll give you a tour one day if you want"

I was getting sick of that conversation. 

"Quit stalking" I say and she finally turns to face me.

"I'm not stalking, you're the one that feels uncomfortable." she says and I think if my discomfort is really that clear on my face. "But you're here to ask questions and I'm here to answer, I think that's fair."

"Okay," I choose my words wisely, I need to get as much information as I can. "Why do you..."

"Oh, no" she cuts me off. "Not without the tea."

And she whips around,grabs the cups and closes the distance to the table in five steps. She puts one cup in front of her and one right across. Then she sits down and starts sipping from her tea.

"I don't like tea." I say as I slide in the sit in front of her and push the cup forward.

She takes another sip of her tea:

"You don't have to drink it, it's just for atmosphere." she says and sets her cup down. "Now, I'm willing to give you some answers."