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Carla had just sat there crying. Her panic breaths started to slow with the touch from saviour. Her plain brown eyes slowly started to close as the tears stopped. Soon enough with her head laying on Kimberly’s shoulder she had fallen into a deep sleep. Something very needed to make the wait for the drugs to disappear from her system, seem like a blink and not like forever. Kimberly had handled her well, because with the slightest wrong move and Carla would have turned herself into a massive panic attack. Reasonably, for what she had just gone through. However, the attack would be no simple fix for when she panicked, she usually ended up in the hospital.

Her sleep was deep and dreamless. It was as if a void had attached itself onto her very core and filled her being with darkness. A chilling darkness. Shuttering slightly as her eyes fluttered open sleepily, her mind was a little fuzzy as she tried to recall the room she was in. She was in a warm queen size bed, darkness filling the room. She feel weird, weirder than usual. Although the drugs had left her system, it had left her disordered, holes in her memory that felt more like dreams. Sitting up she looked around the dark room trying to figure out where she was. It wasn’t her apartment with Liz, Carla had gotten used to sleeping on the couch, well Liz slept on the floor. Their apartment had an air of weed, smoke and other scents she could never place. Yes she lived in a dump. However, this place smelt fresh, alive, homey. A scent of food linger in the air making her tummy grumble, before rolling a little. 

Cupping her mouth as she gagged a little. She slowly let her hands fall back onto the bed as she took slow breaths. She looked through her mind trying to figure out how she got there, her eyes filling with tears. She left work walking with Liz. . . they had been attacked. She remember a man with rotten teeth and breath of the dead holding her face as he turned it around looking at her closely. She could remember the cold chain clothing touching her skin as the men slipped them on her. She was sobbing softly now, trying to tell herself it was a dream.

She could have sworn she remembered Hale carrying her. . . after that all she could remember was her long hair brushing along her face as she cried on her shoulder. It felt so surreal. Looking down at herself, she could feel clothing, she touched them, as if making sure they were real. She had been changed, if anything in her memory was real. She was in a t-shirt that was long yet tight, a pair of pj pants had been tied on that were also a little long for her. Pushing the bedding away she slipped off the bed, the floor was a soft carpet, that pushed up between her toes. She walked slowly towards what she believe was the door, a line of light could be seen outlining this door. Carla was starting to wonder if she had died.

Grasping the handle she turned it and peeked the door open, peeking through the crack, wincing slightly at the bright hall light. Where. . . was she?

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