His grip around my neck softened, but it was still enough to make me struggle against him. Any minute now I will pass out. The boy was crying, his tears splashing down onto my bloody skin as he continued to afflict pain onto me. My head was spinning, and I felt my chest tighten, any second now. My fingers were broken, and blue with brusises, blood splattered my skin like I was a canvas and the blood was the paint.

"I'm sorry-" The boy choked out a sob.

The black lines were curling around the side of his neck, just reaching his jawline, what were these lines? They can't have been tattoos, I would've seen them on him before, which I haven't. I let out a scream as his elbow connects with my forehead, and then my eyes fall shut and I feel nothing.

I lay down on a bed, covered in a small blanket. My chest was bare and there were wires attached to me, pumping some sort of black liquid into my body. It was all white, and there was no natural light, only the light coming from the lights above me. My vision was slightly blurred, but not bad enough to stop me from seeing. I couldn't think where this was, I couldn't even begin to imagine why I was here either. It was all silent, but then I heard cries and screams. I was scared, there was no denying it, I hated this. I'm sick of all these screams and cries, I'm sick of this constant fear. Who is doing this? Why are they doing this? Why am I being used for whatever this is?

I let out a breath, trying to wash all the negative emotions out of me, only because I know that now is not the time to panic. There must be some resonable explanation for all of this, this switching between dreams, all this pain, this nightmare. I have never been as desperate as this for answers, and it made me sick. I shouldn't have these questions. I should be, well I don't know where, but not here!

I tried to sit up, but to my disappointment I find that my body had been restrained by metal bars, meaning that I am trapped here for the rest of this I call my life. I wanted to cry, but I don't. I've already suffered to much and I am learning to deal with it.

"You can move it," A familiar voice said.

My face screws up in confusion. Move what? Maybe it was just my imagination. Yes, it had to be that. There was no one else here.

"You can move the restraints," The voice came again.

I clench my hands into fists and wiggle them about. I bit down hardly on my lip as I feel the restraints clamp down onto my skin harder and I stop.

"I can't," I admit weakly.

And that is the exact moment when the door to this room I was in, swung open. There were two people, both wearing white lab coats, and masks. I couldn't tell whether they were male or female, or how old they were, all I saw was these white masks staring back at me. This made my heart go tight. They moved gracefully, like ghosts I suppose. I watched as they went over to a small metal stand which I hadn't noticed before. They were bursts of quite conversation being exchanged between them too. I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying. I heard the words "Training now," and "yes," but I didn't give much more thought to them, they probably aren't relevant to me anyway. Maybe this is a hospital! My mind suddenly screamed. Maybe something happened to me and I was saved. Waves of different emotions hit me. 

I heard another cry and look out the doorway. It was dull outside, and I couldn't see well. I could hear footsteps too, and them pained cries, but then they started to get closer and closer and then I see what was passing by the open door. Two more people dressed in white, but what made my breath catch was the boy inbetween their arms. He looked vaguely familiar I suppose. He had beautiful brown hair, and his skin looked milky and gorgeous. But that was underneath all the blood. He was practically soaked in the blood, and there were wounds all over his body, from grazes on his arms, to deep gashes on his legs. What the hell happened to him?

"Is he...okay?" I asked as he disappeared from sight.

But I didn't get an answer.

A needle peirced the skin on my neck, and almost the instant after it was in, everything was gone.

I woke suddenly, sitting up.

The boy was gone.

The blackness is still torn apart.

I can't remember what happened before I passed out.

I sit up and rub the back of my neck. I'm meant to be hurt, but I'm not. The boy is still meant to be here but he's not. I'm not meant to be here, but I am. I sigh and rise to a stand. In the distance I could still see the whitness that painted the blackness and the chair. It was odd though, there was no more whitness falling through the torn black. I walk forward, curiosity taking the better o