Back To You [editing]

Chapter 17 - Sophie & Keefe

May be innappropriate?

My eyes flutter open.

I groan as the dull lights hit my eyes. My headache worsens as I looked around.... I am in Exile. I wipe the drool off my chin. I move my hands up into my view. This is strange- I'm not restrained? I know I'm in a cell- bigger than my bedroom in Havenfield and I'm laying on my back on a-a.... Bed?

"Keefe?" I mutter to no one in particular. I'm alone but then how did I wake up? Didn't they perform a memory break? I scratch my head which is itchy. I scramble up to sit upright. I can hear moans from other prisoners. I look in front of me and I see an immense silver door with a porthole. I let out a trembling breath.

Get out, get out, get out!

I shake my head trying to get a hold of myself while half of me except gnomes to barge in any second.

Get out, get out, get out!

But how? I sit criss-cross on the bed and massage my temples trying to finger out a suitable solution.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Softly but long.

Concentrate, Sophie, Concentrate.

I looked deep into my mind.

For Keefe.

It was like my mind had a brain of its own. It was feeding off my adrenaline to create warmness and enthusiasm; it was combining the two components together; like a missile launching out of my mind- the blast shreds, but making no sound just like I ordered it too and a void bursts in front of me.

I smile to myself and scramble to my feet just as the alarms went off. The siren wailing electronically along the corridors, leaping out from the corners, echoing everywhere. Overhead, a light flashed red. I ignored it and stepped into the void just as the door flung open.

I looked around at the familiar grayness and thought of the only place that was actually... home.

The void splits with a blinding flash of light and I fall through it and I drop onto the delicate grass of Havenfield.

I breathe in the sweet air- which was nothing like the one in Exile. My hands run through it before I thrust up; running inside, my stomach thundering.

I smooth my wrinkled tunic as I clump into the kitchen; still getting used to walking. I look through all the cabinets trying to find a bottle of Youth.

When I find the bottle, I gulp it down in one breath, smelling myself as I do.

And... yep, I stink.

I hold my breath as I grab another bottle of Youth and gulp it down, slower than last time. It tastes luscious like... Keefe.

Wait... KEEFE!

I shake my head and put the bottle on the counter, and run upstairs to my room, still swallowing the Youth, praying I don't choke on it.

When I reach my room I'm out of breath and I feel sweat trickle down my back, making me smell worse.

I gasp in astonishment and clasp my hand over my mouth.

My eyes hold tears that are just begging to escape. "Keefe,"