Gen Two- Chapter Thirty Six

My back instantly straightened up, but my chest had a different idea of what I should do. The grating of the main cracked rib was so definite that I could feel the unsettling movement right before the now familiar searing pain erupted dark spots in the corner of my eyes. I instinctively curled back up, but I at least managed to catch the cough that rattled in my throat. It was even better that whoever was going to enter hadn't fully swung the door open yet. My sudden, random movement went unnoticed. Footsteps soon approached, however, and I made sure to freeze all further movement.

Gen Two- Chapter Thirty Five

My feet wore down the same repetitive walk that had now been firmly ingrained into both normal memory and muscle memory. Working in the warehouse moving boxes was somehow much more boring than working at the bookstore sitting around and doing almost nothing most of the time. Now three weeks experienced in my new 'job', I did the same thing everyone else did. A quick glance was all it took me to know where to put a box. I knew how to file the arrivals into the system, and I was proving to be one of the quickest ones at prepping the boxes meant for departure. That was because none of the other workers had a serious motivator behind them like I did with Buckeye. If I didn't work quickly and efficiently, well...

While I had gotten to know the names of the other workers, I still kept my distance. They kept theirs too. A few questions had been asked to them at the beginning about certain aspects of the job, but other than that it nothing but a 'Sorry' or 'Excuse me' if we accidentally bumped into each other on the floor. There were however, lots of awkward catches of each others' glances and just as rapid breaking of them. Case in point, the moment that was occurring then.

Gen Two- Chapter Thirty Four

It took me a great while, what felt like a great while to my messed up head anyway, to realize there was nothing holding me down. No part of me had been broken beyond repair. There were no ropes tying me up. I had not been drugged in any sort of manner. The harsh blow to the back of my head had been all that had been done, and that was the reasoning behind the overwhelming sense of entrapping motionless that had me stuck on the bed. My eyes did open every now and again. My brain was working enough to at least take in my surroundings and put them together into a cohesive picture. What it couldn't do, however, was get me to react to it. I knew I had been attacked and captured because I let my emotions make me a damn idiot who ran to the perfect location to give my mysterious enemies the perfect opportunity at me. I understood I was most likely in the very same room dad had been kept in. It looked like what he described. What I didn't do was care.