Worse than prison

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John's POV

So we lost Ringo and Paul, then I tried to find a chair, which I ended up knocking over. Then George falls on me and nearly collapses my rib cage. I start crawling around to who knows where, trying to find something to help me stand up. The coarse carpet changed into a cold tile floor on my hands. My knees started to hurt from being on them and using them on the floor so much. The room got darker and darker and I couldn't even see blurs now. I was hoping it was the room that got darker instead of my eyesight getting worse. The first thing I found when I was feeling around to help me up was a doorpost. With a doorpost should be a door. And with a door should be a doorknob. As long as it would help me up, I didn't care how small it was. I was able to stand up again, but my knees still burned from crawling.

"JOHN LENNON, SHOW YOURSELF!" I heard a familiar voice call out. George.

"George, is that you?" I was so glad to hear such a familiar voice. I was so happy and wanted to run to him. Until I quietly heard the door creak open from behind and a cold hand grabbed my wrist. Tight. "Hey, what are you- LET ME GO! WHAT THE-" He covered my mouth with another cold, strong hand, I thought just his hand around my mouth so tight would break all my teeth in a second. I could barely struggle against him. I was like a rag doll in his hands. I felt a sharp pain in my neck. A needle kind of pain. My arms and legs got heavy and I couldn't move. I heard evil laughing and conversations, but I couldn't tell what they were saying. I soon could hear nothing. Feel nothing. I think I blacked out.

I woke up tied to a chair. Next to a sleeping Paul, I guess. Who was next to Ringo I think, who was staring at the ceiling. "Ringo? Is that you?"

"John! You're awake!" Yeah, that was definitely Ringo.

"Where are we?" I asked him.

"I know as much as you do about where we are."

"What's with a- Sleepin' Beauty here?"

"He apparently can't think past the mind of a three year old. They told him it was nap time. But that didn't work, so they had to knock him out."

"George and I found out earlier about his... condition. When you-."

"George!"

"What? What about George?"

"Where is he? Is he okay?" He started frantically turning his head, making his mop top sway left and right blurrily.

"I don't know."

"I told them they they shouldn't lay a finger on George. That he was too innocent."

"Ringo! That'll only give 'em more of a reason to kidnap him!"

"Sorry! I couldn't help it! George is like my baby brother!"

"Well, mine too!"

"But you wouldn't understand! We always feel like we're in the shadow of you and Paul!" He shouted at me. I felt my heart literally sink like a weight. I never knew that they felt that way.

"Sorry, I just-"

"Oh, it's not your fault. I just- I just miss him. I know you miss him, too, but- " He sighed deeply for a minute and I heard- crying? All I saw from Ringo most of the times were jokes, games, and Ringoisms. But seeing- or should I say hearing him cry was so sad.

"Ringo, don't worry. I know what you mean. George should be fine. I've got faith in him." I couldn't stand to see my friend like this. I hoped George or Brian or someone that could help us would come. Anyone. "How long've you been'n this prison, anyroad?" I wanted to try and change the subject to keep him from crying anymore. I can't stand to hear a grown man cry. Especially my best friend.

"Now, John, we can't call this a prison."

"Why not? Feels like one."

"But you're at least entitled to one phone call in prison." He joked. At least he sounded happier.

"So what you're sayin' is that this is worse than prison?"

"It is though, isn't it?"

"Depends." I smiled. I just wanted to get out of this jail cell. Or worse than a jail cell as we already discussed.

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