0 & 1

print("Twelve")

Lena

The woman grabbed my arm. I looked to her in surprise.

"C'mon, let's go," she said. "It's really not that interesting to look at."

I didn't know what to say. With one last glance at Ari, I followed her.

We stayed quiet for a while, and I looked away, biting the inside of my cheek. "Uh...what's your name?" I blurted.

"Paris," she answered. She had dark hair and coffee skin, with pale splotches all over it. I blinked, my arm getting red marks from the irritation. She was practically dragging me across the floor.

More silence.

So many questions were on the tip of my tongue, so I held my breath so I wouldn't swallow them. "Where are you taking me?"

She looked at me, a surprised expression on her face, most likely at my harsh tone. I hadn't meant to. It was a bad habit. A habit which I had learned recently was bad, when I started meeting up with Arya again in the...what did she say? Phantom? Phantasm?

"You're clearly curious about everything," Paris pointed out. "You want to know eeeeeverything that's going on, has happened and is going to. You want to become aware of your surroundings, and make a plan to comfort yourself, right? Not to mention curiosity. I'm sure you have no idea what's going on here."

I stared at her. Our footsteps made echoey, quick taps on the dusty, marble floor. She had just summed up everything I was thinking, including a lot of other things I didn't want to admit.

I looked away. "Are you psychic or something?"

"No. I'm just unbelievably perceptive."

We made a few turns here and there, and everything still looked the same. Dirty. Dusty. Concrete walls. A flickering light in every hall.

I thought about her answer again, and realized something. "You didn't answer my question. I asked you where taking me."

More footsteps. She didn't answer.

And then she did.

"To give you the answers."

end

End