I’m struggling today. It was hard to muster up the smile for this photo or to go through my routine. Some things felt monumentally difficult, but I’m a fighter, so I refused to let it get the best of me.
I’ve been extremely worried lately about what my therapist told me at my last appointment with her, almost two weeks ago. I told her I’ve been in this dreamlike state constantly for a while, with periods when I’ll stare into space and come out of it, but I can’t pinpoint when these periods begin and end. She told me they could be silent seizures. She’s no doctor, but she works with doctors who see this kind of thing happen. I go to my doctor tomorrow and I’m worried about it. What will happen? What do I do? What if it’s something worse? I know I’m probably overthinking things but I can’t really help it. I’m concerned for my health at this point. I’ve had trouble spelling things and focusing. I cant count how many mistakes I’ve had to correct just typing this.
Anyway, thanks you guys for following my 100 reasons to recover photo challenge these past 31 days =)
I HOPE THIS CHAPTER MAKES YOU FEEL THE FEELS. I’ve had so many awesome comments on this, it’s making me so happy! Thank you so much for all the reblogs, likes and asks. Keep them coming ;) Previous Chapters
“Got it!” exclaimed Ashton around a mouthful of noodles, waving the third table leg at us before placing it down with the other two. The drummer flexed his long fingers before picking up the spoon he was using as a screwdriver and starting on the fourth and final leg of the table. Calum had spotted that the legs were only screwed on when he woke up late this morning and as Michael and I prepared the rest of our food, he, Ashton and Luke had begun taking the table apart. We needed any weapon we could get our hands on. I’d forgotten about the old pepper spray I kept in my bag and I quick careful test on the carpet proved that it still functioned. That and four makeshift clubs were all five teenagers had against god knows how many armed men. We didn’t stand a chance, but what else could we do? Two good meals did manage to lift our spirits a little bit, but a heavy atmosphere hung over the room. I imagined this was what the soldiers at Gallipoli had felt like, waiting in the trenches to attack the vastly superior Turkish enemy. Australia had lost 60 000 men in the First World War, their names still had faded from history. There were only six of us. In the end, how much did we really matter to the world? Looking around, I knew I mattered the least of all. Ashton, with two younger siblings. Calum with his sister’s name tattooed on his arm. I had seen him run his fingers over the letters of her name so many times today I had lost count. Luke, the youngest in his family. Michael and his bright personality, his seemingly endless horde of friends and the only child his parents had. Not to mention the thousands upon thousands of thousands of fans the boys had. I thought of what it would do to so many of them if anything were to happen to the boys. Thinking back to all the happiness this band had bought me, I knew the effect would be devastating. I had to make sure that nothing hurt them. In that moment I made a promise to myself. I would get them out. I would get all of them out. I sat myself down, playing listlessly to what was left of my breakfast as I tried to figure out how.
I rapped on the door urgently. The room was dark, the lights switched off hours ago. When the door opened I grabbed at the guard’s arm, not the familiar young man. He slapped my hand away roughly. I forced my voice to shake. “Please, there’s something wrong with him. Help him, I think he’s dying!” I exclaimed, turning to pull him towards the dark heap lying on the ground. I knelt by Michael’s side as he shook and coughed disturbingly. The guard crouched and squinted at Michael cautiously, grabbing him and shaking him silently. When Michael’s apparent seizure failed to stop, he turned to yell out his partner waiting in the hall. He never got the chance to make a sound, crumpling unconscious as the leg of a table slammed with a thud into his temple. He landed in a heap on top of Michael. Calum and I pulled him off and dragged him to the corner of the room. Ashton and Luke, still wielding their table legs, hid behind the door once more as I ducked my head back out to alert the second guard. “You’re friend wants you,” I hissed, “He wants your help.” Behind my back I crossed my fingers, hoping he didn’t call for backup. After a suspicious glare at my now genuinely worried face, he stepped into the room. I let him step in front of me, sliding the door quietly shut behind me. “Isn’t there a goddamned light in here?” He muttered, “Isiah, what do you want?” But Isiah couldn’t reply, he was still out cold. His nameless accomplice joined him a second later as Ashton put all his force behind the baseball-like-swing that impacted the table leg into skull. Adrenalin surged through me as I switched the light back on. We stared down at the two men. The first part of our plan had succeeded. I crouched by the feet of not-Isiah and pulled his boots off, tossing the lace up military footwear at Michael. “Pull the laces out of those and tie his hands together,” I ordered. Ignoring the smell, I yanked his socks of and balled one up. I stuffed it into his mouth, and used the other to bind the gag in place, knotting the sock at the back of his head. “Someone grab me two tea towels,” I snapped. I grabbed them as they were tossed at me, using one to blindfold the man as Calum tied his hands tightly behind his back. We dragged him into the opposite corner of the room. I repeated the process on the one called Isiah, checking his bonds before Michael and Luke pushed him back into the corner. “Guys, help me empty their pockets,” I muttered, patting Isiah down. A handgun, a knife, a torch. Another knife from the second guard, as well as another torch. I picked the gun up cautiously, turning it over in my hand as I inspected it. “Who wants it,” I said quietly, looking around the room. No one looked particularly eager to have it. I hefted in my hand, feeling the weight of the cool metal in my grasp. Holding that sort of power in my hands was reassuring even though I had never seen it, let alone touched a gun before. “You should take a knife as well,” Michael suggested gently, “You don’t have much else.” It was true. The boys had their table legs, proven to be effective clubs. I on the other hand, had a small pepper spray and a gun I didn’t know how to use. I took a knife.
“We should take the other one too, so they don’t have it when they wake up,” I suggested. After a moment, Michael grabbed it. We all looked at each other.“I guess it’s now or never,” Calum muttered. We all nodded.
“We stick together, okay? Unless something goes wrong, we stick together,” I said fiercely. Daniel had advised us not to try the main entrance, it was too heavily guarded. Instead we went the opposite way, hurrying down winding hallways. I relied on the boy’s for the most part. They had a far better idea of where we were. Tension bounced between us and gradually our pace picked up until we were jogging, left, right, right again, seeking freedom. It was our worst mistake. The sound of our feet muffled the approach of two other pairs. As we rounded yet another corner, we quite literally ran into the two militants. There was a moment of shock before all hell broke loose. The boys swung wildly with the metal table legs, felling one of the men before they were disarmed. The remaining man began to shout for help and this time, the sound of feet was impossible to miss. I turned at the boys in horror, swinging the gun up in front of me. “Run!” I screamed. A millisecond’s hesitation and they were off, sprinting as fast as their feet could carry them. After a few meters I knew there was no way I would be able to keep up with them in my bare feet. My block heeled boots had been left behind, to impractical for a sneaky escape. I stumbled to a stop, spinning to pant my feet firmly. In seconds three men were upon me. Convulsively my finger tightened around the trigger and several deafening pops echoed through the building. I shot blindly, aiming in only the general direction of the men. As two of them dropped, I ceased shooting, breathing heavily as I stared down the last man. I recognised him now, the same grey haired monster who had beaten me when I had first been caught. Hatred rose up in me and my finger twitched on the trigger as I held his gaze. The fact that his own gun was pointed at me hardly seemed an issues, there was so much adrenalin pulsing through me. As feet sounded behind me, I thought it was all over. “Lucy, come on!” I jerked at the sound of Calum’s voice.
“What are you doing?” I yelled without turning. “Go! Get out.” My voice cracked on the last word, tears building in my eyes. There was a deadly silence. “GO!” I screamed again. The pistol shook in my grip. Finally I felt some form of relief as I heard them start to run off again. My opponent’s gun shifted, the muzzle switching its aim from my chest to somewhere over my shoulder. I had fired before I realised what I was doing. I tried to empty another bullet, but the gun clicked emptily. I threw the now useless weapon aside. The grey haired man clutched at his shoulder for an instant, blood seeping and darkening his shirt from the hole that my bullet had put in it. I scrambled for the knife as he ran at me, swiping at him desperately. The blade cut into his hand, but he grabbed at it. I released it instantly, turning and running. I had no idea where I was going, leaping up stairs two at a time when I came to them. He followed close behind, grunting as I took a sharp left to avoid his grasp. The chase through the dim hallways was the most terrifying experience of my life and I was growing more tired by the second. My legs kept running though, running and running until they carried me into a room. Running until they carried me into a room and straight through a third storey window.