Sasha's legacy 1. Written by: Sheri Murphy

Chapter fifty one©

Written by: Sheri Murphy © all rights reserved
Chapter fifty one
At present time

Drake was still feeling hazy. His head was pounding and he felt like he was sweating. However, he was shaking uncontrollably with chills. The gag remained in his mouth. He lifted his head as slowly as he could. Right now in the position his limp body rested in. All he could see was the man's shoes in front of him. He felt it was a man anyways. They were blue Italian leather boots. Which could have belonged to anyone.

Aside from the fact that there was a hand painted panther on the sides of them. If memory serves him correctly. His wife had painted a pair of those not to long ago. His heart seemed to speed up with anticipation. Excitement that it could just be his rescuer. However, what was taking him so long to get him out of this situation?

"Wait!" He thought. "I don't know if she finished them or not. Maybe she hadn't and the ones that the dude sported was them. Maybe the guy stole them from his house."

The man reached down and pulled the gag out from his mouth. Drake coughed and then gagged.

"Look man!" He managed to choke out through the worst sore throat he'd ever had. "Could I get some water or something? My throat is so dry I can't even swallow." He wasn't joking either. It has been days since he had any water.

The man made a hand gesture to the other unknown man in the room. All Drake could hear was footsteps away and then towards him.

The man handed him a glass and he drank it all in one gulp. He was probably in the best possible position he could be in right at this moment. Due to the fact that not two minutes after it landed in his stomach. He threw it up again all over the floor. It had been days since anything had been in his blood system. He drank it so fast he knew it would make him sick. Being that he loved to learn survival situations. He knew this, however, he didn't stop himself from doing so. He needed to quench his thirst. Actually he needed to sooth his throat. It had felt like it was on fire for days. He was pretty sure the vomiting wouldn't do much for his dehydration. But he just couldn't seem to stop until the cold, wet liquid was gone. That was the only satisfying feeling he's had in weeks.

Drake must have splashed or covered the man In front of him. Because before he knew what was happening he felt another sharp pain in his head. And there he was back with the gang.

"They must of all decided to take a walk  to one of their friends house. She lived probably about two or three miles away. It shouldn't take that long to get there.

Drake and Jack were walking next to each other. While the girls were walking together. Gray was on the other side of Drake. Somehow he always seemed to be the one stuck in the middle of no matter what it was they were doing. If there was a fight. He patched it up. If there was a physical altercation, he came between it so no one got hurt. Someone was feeling bad about themselves. He gave the pep talks. Someone needed a silent hug. Well, he didn't do those. Until later on in life. But he always seemed to be the one in the middle.

It wasn't so much that Jack and Gray didn't get along. They could when they wanted to. It's just both seemed to play or chose to play the dominant role when it came to each other. They fought each other for the power. While Drake sat back knowing he didn't have to fight for it. He already had it. If push came to shove and the situation got out of hand. No matter what it was. Drake corrected it. If he couldn't correct it at the moment. Say they were to hot under the collar at the moment. He at least controlled the situation. No one walked away hurt except maybe emotionally. But the situation was controlled.

It wasn't often that Drake lost his temper. So when he did they listened. He may have gotten mad or aggravated or been a dick here and there. But to get down right adamant about a situation was a rare occasion. And they all knew he meant business.