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Chapter 15: One Pillow too Short of Comfort
Fire had run through the forest, alighting every bush, shrub, and tree, and creating giant, black plumes of smoke, chocking everything. It fell from the sky, from the clouds like rain, and Red_Two knew, peeled to the shattered cliff edge, that he could not go back. His legs shook and his entire body shivered, too weak to move against the burning stones fell from the community. He was sweating and crying and the dust in his eyes just wouldn't leave him alone. He tried to move away from the cliff edge, crawl at least to the cool of the river, but his body wouldn't listen to him. Hot bile rose from his stomach and Red_Two vomited off to the side.
He lay face down on the floor, eyes glued to the upwards, gazing up at the floating city.
He just wanted to close his eyes and see that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to wake up from his hellscape dream.
He woke up.
He woke up again.
And again.
And again.
His name wa
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"My name's Alice, and today we're leaving Emmet to sleep off his two all-nighters. We're gonna have breakfast in the kitchen. Then you can go to your daily physio with the one and only Doctor Lisa Johnstone!"The blonde woman held Jasper up as if he were nothing, not even shaking sweating as he was propped up on her shoulder. He could feel the muscle his legs and found himself sweating.She carried him from the medical wing into the heart of the facility. Jasper had only known the route from his bed to Emmet's office, quite literally down the corridor. Jasper was carried through one long corridor, tilting his head, side to side to spy down the long halls and through the windows of the doors he could see.The facility had grey halls, but the halls and ceilings were at least white. The corridor ceilings had lights to illuminate wherever the sun's rays missed, flooding in from the windows at each turn. Jasper saw workroom tables with laptops behind them. They were
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The Boy who Circled Time Chapter 19: Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall, Who is Bravest of them all?
The sand was dry and dusty, too slippery to grip by itself with his shrivelled, wet hands alone, but the grains had become more solid, and rough enough on his bruised, freezing skin to help him grip onto a large, gnarling, tree root. All he could miserably do was hold on, too weak to do more than keep his head above water and breathe. His arms burned and his stomach wailed. He wanted to cry but found that no tears were coming. He tried to make a sound, but nothing but a pathetic cracking noise emerged from his throat.Was it worth pulling himself to shore? Was it worth doing any of this? If he just let go, he would reunite everybody from Gryaz after he made the journey back in the afterlife, when his soul was severed from his useless, beaten body, strong, and ready to trek back to the gorge.And if he just let go, he wouldn't be in this river anymore, freezing cold and burning at the same time, the sensations mixing, overlapping and swirling in his chest, making him si
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