Sleep
an excerpt

You know those days that drag on forever?

Yeah. This was definitely one of those days.

I couldn't sleep, I couldn't risk eating anymore without barfing, and apparently, Lora had put her foot through the television while I was asleep. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no money to spend. I briefly contemplated giving one of my old high school buddies a call, but seeing as to how I was a minor that wasn't attending high school with no parental consent, and the fact that I'd ran away from home two-thousand miles and almost three years ago, I figured that it was better off just hanging around and pretending not to be me. I would have been a seventeen year old senior this year--and I had to admit, I'd always wanted to graduate.

But no. I had to fall asleep and wake up in an alien world, where I wasted all my time and efforts to fight of some tyranny that no sane person even knew existed.

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

Back in the apartment, I spent my time doodling on a spare sheet of paper, and watching as Lora and John slept. For all I knew, there could be a huge crisis, and I would be five feet away from them and not even know that they were dying. Was there any way to hook John up to a feeding tube or something, so he didn't starve? We didn't even think about that back with Selena, but now the thought hits me, and I get an 'oh shit, that might actually work' moment. Of course, since none of us are doctors, we wouldn't be able to do it. But I could always try to take him to a hospital and say he was in a coma... But then, I'd have to come up with some excuse as to how he'd gotten there, and then, God forbid, someone would recognize me from the missing posters three years ago... There were just too many strings attached.

Granted, I would definitely do it, but only as a last resort, and only if Lora couldn't get him back soon.

I looked out our small window, wondering just what we were going to do... Rent was due in a week, and we were flat broke, with no way to get money. Especially not with John gone. And peddling art on the streets only got me so far.

There was a knock on the door.

My head twisted. How in the world would someone want to come here? I hadn't sent off for any inflatable dolls, and nobody should know where we live, much less who we are. Taking a shallow breath, I moved to the bed that Lora was sleeping atop, sliding a hand underneath the mattress and hissing lightly as I nicked my middle finger on the dagger. Pulling the metallic object out, I watched with a delayed fascination as a droplet of crimson blood fell to the white mattress, creating a nice little circular radius, before slowly expanding as the liquid seeped in.

Another knock.

I couldn't understand--why was someone here? Unfortunately, our door did not posses the luxuries of a peep hole, so I just had to risk opening it to see who it was. Though, if it was the cops or something, they would have announced it by now, right?

Of course, I could just not answer it. Pretend that nobody was home. After all, it was probably just our landlord. God, I hated him. Large, fat, and money-crazed, he didn't care if I was a runaway or a felon, so long as I payed my bills on time. Which I wasn't... And so, I'd spent more than a few hours standing in front of him as he got red in the face from yelling at me for the rent. I didn't appreciate the spittle in my face either.

Another knock.

No, it wasn't him. The knock was too high up on the door, and not booming enough to be him. It was an irritated sort of knock, but one by someone who probably just wanted to tell me that I'd dropped something in the hallway. Slipping the dagger under my waistband, I untucked my shirt and threw the cloth over it, shivering at the cool of metal against my skin. I looked a little deformed around the hip area, but anything goes in this city, right? Shaking my head, I willed myself to continue, taking a few steps forward and resting a hand on the door. Another knock and a half, before I yank it open.

It's him.

The kid, the drug-dealer back on the street. Was he after me for some reason? He didn't look exactly murderous, but who was I to judge that? I swallowed harshly, hand already darting for the dagger. He moved equally quickly in a small shuffle, catching my wrist.

I was now officially in Deep Shit.

Taking a step closer to him, I jabbed out the elbow of my captured arm, trying to catch him awkwardly in the jaw. I caught him square with a satisfying thud, watching as his head snapped backward.

Growling somewhat at my resistance, the guy used his unrelenting grip on my wrist, and his hand shoving at my gut to push himself closer, into the room, before closing the door behind him with a flick of his ankle. Yanking me toward him by the wrist, I couldn't help giving a small yelp as I stumbled forward into his waiting arm, pinning me effectively against his side. Somehow, my dagger had ended up on the floor, and I was so quickly helpless--it pissed me off to no end. He gave a soft noise, before trying to wrest me into submission--even though it seemed as if this guy (whoever he thought he was) wasn't trying to hurt me.

"I know what you are."

I froze.