Half Mad (Sequel to Half Bad)

Chapter 13

✖ Chapter 13 ✖

        I DIDN'T REMEMBER passing out when my eyes first flew open some time around the next day, I suppose. Though I was no longer in a cell, I felt the same claustrophobia. There was nothing but a cot in the corner of the room, and no toilet told me this had to be temporary unless they enjoyed cleaning up other people's "accidents."

        It all came back shortly after I awoke; Rose's demonic side gaining full control as it tried to split the earth right down the middle, taking every human being with it; Cecilia stepping in with her strength yet dying magic due to her old age; Rose's horrendous screaming as she crumpled to the ground... And somewhere in the mix, I believed they'd used some sort of knock-out magic because I remembered nothing else.

        I had no idea where I was, though there was not bars in front of me - an actual door, oddly enough. I was not being held captive like a hostage but rather like a civilian, and if a simple door has given me that much sense of freedom, I could only imagine what actually being free would feel like again.

        Panic washed over me a brief moment when I realized Daniel wasn't with me, but I tried to shake the feeling away as I placed my hand on the handle. My hesitance told me I supposed it would've been locked, but was utterly surprised when it opened without so much as mere force.

        Could I have been dreaming?

        The bizarre situation led me to believe so, but I tried to ignore it as I poked my head out into a hallway, dimly lit by small light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Furrowing my eyebrows, I stepped out onto the cool cement, and that's when I noticed my feet were bare and I was not wearing the asylum jumper anymore. Instead, I was wearing a large white button-down with white pants to match, leaving me more puzzled than before.

        Had they messed with my memory?

        I assumed I was acting as if they were Cecilia, though I hadn't had the motivation to mention or even think of her name, for that matter. So instead, I gained the little strength I could muster and turned left.

        Unsure of what I expected, it definitely wasn't an endless-feeling corridor. There were countless doors lining the seemingly eternal hallway, but all of them were locked as I tried them. I heard a shuffle of feet from behind me, whipping around only to find emptiness. The predicament, to say the least, was eerie and unsettling.

        But I refused to be intimidated - if this was a game, then I'll be a player.

        Holding my hands, palms up, down at my sides, I felt them begin to burn as I beckoned for the fire, if necessary. Another scruff of the floor. I whipped around. Nothing. The same routine repeating itself about three times before I heard it.

        Before I heard her.

        And maybe I should've been more wary about the situation, but I couldn't fight myself on this. It wasn't like the control before when I walked into a blatant trap - this was me needing her. I couldn't keep denying the fact that I missed her, even a mere smile or her quick remarks. We've been apart nearly as long as we'd been together, and I was sick of the distance.

       "Rose!" I called, cautious of the situation, raising an eyebrow as I peered down the long corridor. There was no coherent answer at first, just muffles.

        She shouted my name again, sounding closer than last time. I released the energy from my hands just as her frail body rounded the corner, fear slapped across her face and it was more than obvious that this was no trick. No one can fake being that terrified.