Room 93 (FIRST DRAFT)

Day 4

The night falls quickly. I am suddenly glad that I have my watch. I slipped it on just after the others arrived and it hasn't left my wrist since. We take it in turns to sleep, watching each other's back although there is no present threat.

When the others arrived the boys, Jason and Darren, spent hours beside the poem trying to figure it out. Laya and Darren appear to be the oldest of us all and Jason and Alexia aren't far behind. I am still the youngest but who cares? We guess that Darren and Laya are probably 15 or 16 and Alexia and Jason are 13 or 14.

I curl up next to Eric, our small bodies pressed together. I keep sensing the element of trust between us that I had no control over. It was already cemented in my soul. He sifts closer to me and I closed my eyes, falling deeper and deeper until I have fallen into a heavy sleep.

***

I wake to Eric shaking my arm.
'Liz! Liz, wake up,' he sounds tired and weak. I check my watch, 7:46. We agreed to wake each other up at 8 o'clock.
'What's up, Eric?' I ask as I run my fingers through my hair,
'Nothing. I just wanted to ask you something.' He sounds apologetic and guilty,
'What is it?'
'It's the poem. I keep getting a tingling feeling when I look at it, like I am missing something. And the numbers. Jason is 1, Alexia is 2, Darren is 3, Laya is 4, Maggie is 5, Astra is 6, Samantha is 7, your 8 and I am 9. There is no relationship between the person and number, it isn't like it is in chronological order or anything like that. There is nothing linking the people and numbers, why would we all have numbers and this stupid poems? It doesn't make sense.' He speaks to me the whole time but his eyes are distant and worrying.
'Riddles and rule. Warnings and puzzles,' I speak subconsciously and I don't even realise I am speaking till Eric gives me a puzzled look.
'What are you going on about?'
'The first night, when we were alone, I passed out and heard a voice talking about riddles and rule. Then when I saw the poem I thought that it was odd and the voice spoke again. It said Maybe it is a warning. It is like it is trying to guide me and give me hints...' I need to stop doing that, spilling my secrets of insanity to this eight year old boy who is barely older than me and already thinks I am off my rocker... I don't even know what I am telling him before it pour out my mouth in a stream of craziness which would make anyone cart me away to the loony bin.

'That doesn't make any sense. A warning of what? What could it be warning us about?' He has that edge of curiosity again. It lines his voice and gives it a mysterious edge, like something isn't quite right.

Water rushing drop on drop,
The screams are infinite they shall not stop,

He is right what could the poem be warning us about? Something shifts behind us and I turn around to see Samantha sitting up groggily. I run over and fling my arms around her, letting her pat my aching head.
'What's up Liz?' Her voice is croaky but familiar. If only this amnesia would clear up and I could remember my relationships with these people who are now strangers to me.
'Nothing. Me and Eric were just talking about the poem and the numbers.' I grin at her and she smooths my hair, the way a sister or a mother would. Could she be my sister? I shake my head to clear it. Of course Samantha wasn't, she looked nothing like me.

One by one people begin waking up and talking to one another. Laya starts talking to Maggie quietly. They look quiet similar. Laya has dark black hair and although her eyes are green they have the same qualities as Maggie's. Even though Laya's face is a lot more mature than Maggie's they both have the same shape and the same small strong cheek bones, although Laya's cheeks are chubbier than Maggie's. I can't help but spot the comparisons between them.

Samantha lets me hug her whilst she talks to the blonde haired boy, Darren. Jason sits in front of the poem, his finger lightly skimming the words. He keeps looking at it idly, as if drawn to it by some invisible thread. I can't tear my eyes away from how much he is drawn to it, it's quite disturbing really.

I turn my attention away from Jason and the others and oil my brain cogs, straining for any missing information.

My stomach is still growling but I ignore it, not wanting to draw attention to myself, that's when I hear it. I rushing, roaring noise. It is quiet at first then grows louder. People begin looking up from their conversations and Eric walks over and places his hand on my shoulder. I shiver from his touch, like it brings back bad memories. My scabs ache and sting but I ignore them like I did with my hunger.

Small drops of cold landed on me and I inspect them. Water. Water rushing drop on drop. Suddenly everything falls into place. It was a warning, and I have ignored it.

The torrent of water crashes through what a second ago was wall and rushes upon us, pouncing like a big cat. Everything is swept up in a matter of seconds, sucked into its merciless grasp. I scramble for air whilst floating in the murky forceful waters. Small pockets of air drift past as I flap my arms. I can feel the fright of drowning clenching at my heart, I am a bird of flight flightless, my wings clipped. The weightlessness clasps at me as I see the surface returning.

People are hanging around me, struggling and kicking. White and blue blended together as the air gathers around the movement in their legs and arms. I feel a pair of arms haul me up from under the surface. I come face to face with a wet, worried looking Eric.
'I thought you were dead!' He shouts to me over the rushing of water. I can barely breath clearly let alone answer him. I think I am getting used to this nearly dying thing now. I slump into his arms and watch the others. Laya is paddling next to Maggie, she is obviously protecting her. Darren is near the warehouse of food, doing all he can to stay afloat. Samantha is right next to me. Her and Astra's legs were the ones I saw from underwater. Alexia is behind me, at ease with the monstrous waves. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. There are eight of us including me. Eight? The voice in my head questions me. Really, eight? Of course I tell the stupid voice in my head. I am number eight, how could I forget that number? But Eric is nine... The voice calls out to me, laughing at my own stupidity. There are nine of us in the room. Jason.

I swim out of Eric's arms and search the area. I am right, Jason is still under there. I dive down and look round, the water stinging my eyes. I see him sinking right beneath me. I keep on diving down to him, ignoring Eric's attempts to pull me back up. I reach his level and hook my arms around his armpits. My lungs scream for air but I refuse them, I won't let Jason die. I keep kicking up, dragging Jason behind me. He is passed out and I see the dark spots too. I won't reach the top. Eric can't lift us both up so we will both die here in this god forsaken room.

The darkness overwhelms me and all I can think of is the voice. It told me the poem was a warning and I ignored it. I just wish I had been able to save Jason. I wish I had a purpose...