You feel nothing.
No memories unfolding dramatically.
No life before your eyes.
No last words.
Your eyes are closed.
… that’s what I felt at least.
You don’t recognise that voice. The sound it’s particular though, like you know it from somewhere and it takes a moment or two to register it's a child’s voice.
Whiny and a bit loud.
It is boring anyway though.
You struggle to open your eyes, feeling like your head is about to explode. What happened? Where are you? Your limbs respond dumbly, and after a few seconds, when you try to grab onto something, your hand closes on thin air.
This time, you don’t dare to open your eyes.
I bet you didn’t expect it to go down this way, no one does anyway, that’s why accidents…
You find enough energy to move and sit up abruptly at the comment, suddenly worried. For the first time, you take the place in while trying to stop the rapid beating of your heart.
A white room (huge one, excessively clean, tiled floors, no windows, only one door) and… and a boy in front of you, sitting cross legged. He’s the one talking.
And you finally wake up. It was about time.
You stare at him, dumbfounded. Blue t-shirt and beige pants, reddish hair, just a normal kid.
(And now you're sure you don't know him).
We should get going, you know?
And you finally start to focus.
“Where am I?” You ask, already afraid of the answer. When the words manage to leave your mouth your voice is hoarse.
Your last memory shows up like a flash, only a second. You remember being in Uni, laughing at a stupid joke Liz made.
You shake your head at the last image of her, her curly hair and crooked smile. You were just there, in class. You pat the floor, looking for your bag, but it's not there.
You must be confused, they always are.
You focus your attention back on the kid, he has long eyelashes and brown eyes, some freckles too. Nothing out of the ordinary. But what’s he doing here? And what are you?
More importantly, why isn't he replying?
Where the hell are you?
You blink twice, trying to get rid of the dizziness.
It’s not only the feeling of when you just woke up, it’s something more… like you’re hungover. Everything slower and clumsier, your mind working overtime just to figure out how you got here.
“Where am I?” You ask again, getting impatient. And as if you’re finally seeing, the room starts to clear out, it’s not that big anymore, the space filled with furniture. And you focus on the details, there's a bed at the end, and some geometrical design on the wallpaper, the dim light.
It looks cozy in a way it didn't look a minute ago. How didn’t you notice before?
It’s like the colors appeared when you looked closely.
And not only that, there’s faint noise you’ve just noticed too.
“You tell me,” he finally answers and it should be satisfying, knowing he's actually there and listening, but he hasn’t reacted at anything else you’ve just said, looking calm while you're freaking out.
It’s more than unnerving.
And you never thought you’d want to hit a child. He’s so sarcastic, it’s starting to get into your nerves. If you just got kidnapped, this is proving to be very strange.
You tell me.
You look down, recognizing today’s clothes.
“A room.” You end up saying, lamely. He smiles, he's missing one teeth. Maybe he just looks young. He can’t be that sarcastic if he’s just a child.
“Oh, I see. It looked like a train station to me,” he says, looking slightly intrigued, but he looks like he’s talking to himself, attention on the wall behind you.
You frown, looking around.
“How did I get here?” You ask and he looks back at you, appalled.
“Don’t remember? Not a clue?”
You try, but… no. A bus? Did you take the subway? You were in Uni, you can remember that much. But you don’t recall someone bringing you here either, not one of your friends nor your mom.
He catches your confused expression and tuts.
“Oh, jeez, this is troublesome,” he says, nodding to himself and you frown again.
“Bye.” He says, placing a hand on your forehead and...
And everything blacks out.
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