Intertwined can be defined as twisted together, or closely connected in a way that cannot easily be separated. Like when you twist two pieces of rope around each other and you can no longer easily untangle them.
Addison's single year of life wi...
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"Wicked is good." It rung through her mind like a screeching alarm, an unrelenting pitch that made her head ache. The world around her wavered in light, flickering to the beat of her pounding skull.
A bloodied knife- that only a moment ago had shook in her small hands- clattered to the floor. The sound of metal on stone had shot a hot, searing pain through her skull just as the echo transformed itself.
In front of her was a massive slimy creature with bared teeth. It's metal legs matched the mechanical tail and long blades along its body. It let out a loud screech that sent chills down her spine.
Addison was strapped down to a bed. Her attempts to get free were futile. From the corner of her eye, she could see a white coat and hands that held a rather gruesome needle. Her heart raced and tears pricked her eyes.
"No, no! Please. No!" She screamed. "Please. Please not again!"
Addison's body woke her up with her internal alarm clock. Her hand twitched underneath her head, instinctively finding the leather of her sketchbook. With her one token to remind herself that she is back into reality, she had started to whisper her mantra. The mapper let her thumb rub the bindings gently, which had brought herself a sense of security. It was all she had left of the glen, left of her home.
With a groan, she had finally sat herself upward and opened it. She squinted at the paper in the darkness only to find it had landed on his page. Addison pursed her lips as she stared at the mysterious boy's detailed face and mulled over the interrogation from the previous day. She remembered how Gally accused her of knowing him. How he spoke of him led her to believe that they knew him too. She shook her head to relieve herself from her curiosity. For all she knew, he could be dead, and there was no sense to go looking for even more bad news.
When she glanced up from the book, she noticed a pair of crutches beside her and no Medjacks in sight. She figured they were likely asleep in their own beds somewhere else. Her lips twitched upward at the opportunity.
She carefully slipped her legs out of the makeshift cot and had reached for the crutches. The brunette gritted her teeth as she hauled herself onto her good leg with much effort to stay upright. She didn't want to leave her book, so she slipped it into one of her large pant pockets and hobbled out the door. She quietly passed many sleeping boys- who for the most part had all been in hammocks- as she walked toward a clearing.
When she glanced around she was surrounded by familiar stone walls. There was still stone in the centre of a grassy field that marked the box. Even the forest had been in similar locations that she would expect them to be. But everything else was unfamiliar and much too difficult to make out in the early hours of the morning. To her, what looked like the glen was now filled with different structures in various locations.
"How the stick did I get here?" She whispered to herself. Her head tilted slightly as she squinted to the other side, only to have barely made out some sort of tower in the distance. Curious, the mapper started forward with her supports.
