Enders

Enders (27)

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was white.

For a moment, I was afraid that I was dead. The last thing I could remember was passing out in Tom's arms after he had forced something down my throat; had it been some type of poison? Had he finally succeeded in taking me down? Was all someone needed just a little bit of poison?

Then I realized what I was staring at was a ceiling. I wasn't dead. I was laying in a bed, just as white as the rest of the room, and the left side of my body felt very heavy. I began to panic, afraid that somehow my left side had become paralyzed until I looked over to see that there wasn't anything wrong; Dex was just asleep, his head on top of me.

I nudged his head with my free hand, but he didn't move. I kept trying until I finally got frustrated and grabbed a fistful of his hair, shaking him as hard as I could. He really was the heaviest sleeper I'd ever met.

He finally sat up, groggily rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. All I could really focus on, however, was now I could see that his other arm was in a cast and sling.

"What happened to you?" I demanded, any questions I had about myself flying right out the window, completely forgotten. "Are you okay? Why is your arm like that?"

Dex blinked at me, surprised by my sudden barrage of questions. I opened my mouth to continue to harass him until a sharp, sudden pain in my jaw suddenly cut me off.

"Ow, ow, ow," I groaned, massaging my sore jaw as if that would make it feel better. "Why does my head hurt so much?"

"That... was my fault," Dex admitted, chuckling sheepishly. "I think I might have kicked you a little too hard."

I wanted to ask why he had kicked me, but thought better of it. I didn't even know why he'd kick me in the first place, and I had absolutely no memory of him doing anything of the sort. What had happened that I couldn't remember? Had I not just passed out from whatever Tom had drugged me with?

"You don't... remember, do you?" Dex questioned slowly, the look on my face obviously enough for him to get to that conclusion. "You can't remember anything that's happened in the last couple of weeks?"

"Weeks?" I nearly squawked, the pain in my jaw stopping me from being any louder. "What do you mean, weeks? Are you saying that I'm not just waking up from whatever Tom forced down my throat?"

Dex just stared at me, completely incredulous. He didn't seem to know what to say, and since I clearly had no memory of what had gone on, I had no idea what to say either. We sat there in silence, just staring at each other, until I grew impatient.

"Well?" I snapped, not meaning to sound so impatient.

Dex sighed, readjusting his broken arm as he looked away from me. "You... were with Redrum for the last two weeks," Dex finally informed me, and it sounded so ridiculous that I didn't even know how to react. "They drugged you, or brainwashed you, or something. I don't really know much about that part. But they did something to you so that you didn't act like yourself. You thought we were your enemies and fought us."

Everything seemed to add up now that I stared at Dex's broken arm. I'd fought my friends, meaning the only way Dex could've gotten hurt was because...

"I did that to you?" I gasped, my hand slapping over my mouth in shock. His silence answered my question. "Oh, my God... Dex..."

I reached out to touch him, but thought better of it and pulled back. But he wasn't having it, grabbing onto my hand with his free one and pulled it to his face so I was now cupping his cheek.

"It wasn't you," he whispered, his eyes soft. "Not really. I know this wasn't what you wanted to do."

I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes. Even if I hadn't been aware of what I was doing, I'd still done it. Even though I wasn't me, and I couldn't even remember what I'd done or how I felt, I'd still done it. I'd snapped his arm like it meant nothing. And to me, at that time, I guess it hadn't.