The Laws of Death No Longer Apply

“What in the name of Jon Stamos is going on here?! I know this place is meant for insane people, but come on!” I screamed backing up into a wall, pretty much signing my death warrant.

Oh fuck!

Nice move genius.

Claire advanced on me slowly, like a lion advancing onto it’s jumpy pray, no doubt her manicured nails could take place for claws.

“Now dear, no need to get paranoid. We just,” she glanced over to poor Harold, as did I, to see his pulse being taken by creepy man one. He looked at Claire and shook his head, a sign of the one thing I hoped didn’t happen….they killed Harold.

Hamilton looked back at me and smiled an evil little smile, like she was satisfied with his death. ”He’s simply knocked-out dear. No need to fret.”

I stared at her, jaw slack. “He’s just-” I walked up to her until I was in her face, “he’s just knocked out?! Oh yeah! And I’m the freaking Pope! You don’t knock people out with a shot to the neck! You stupid bi-”
I was unable to finish my insulting comment, with being hit on the head so hard I blacked out.

My last thought was:

That poor guy, he didn’t deserve what they did to him. I will avenge that man Harold. Whether it’s the last thing I do. That bitch will go down.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Uuuuggggg….” I moaned as I woke up, who knows how much later.

God damn, do I have a headache or what?

“Y-you’re a-awake.“ An unfamiliar voice stuttered.

I shot up from wherever I was laying, forgetting about my headache, and instantly regret it. A shooting pain, worse then anything I’d felt as of recently, filled my skull.

“Son of a biiiitch!” I managed to moan, laying back down slowly.

“I-I w-would a-advice against s-sitting up.” The male voice commented quietly.

I cracked my eyes open, determined to put a face to the voice. What I saw started me. I was expecting some nerdy, blonde haired boy with bad acne, black rimmed glasses, and a pocket protector. But, no, what met my eyes were big gorgeous brown ones that were accompanied with black fooshy skater hair. Cute freckles were dotted across his adorable features.

This guy was so adorable! He was handsome, yes, but he was so adorable it was hard to think of him in any other way then as a little boy you wanted to hug.

He was cowering in the comer of the bland room. I felt bad for him. I made eye contact with him and felt even worse. His eyes were full of sorrow and fear.

I sat up, ignoring the pain in my head, and assessed the rest of the room. There was a door on the far end of the room with a small window on it. There were two beds, one I was sitting on, near the door and right across from each other. Each side of the room was identical. The order went, door, bed, nightstand(accommodated with a clock and a small lamp), dresser and bookshelf. The walls were all white, unsurprisingly, and there was no personal belongings anywhere except for the nightstand across from me. It had the boy in the boy in the corner smiling in, I would guess, a wedding setting. The boy wasn’t the only one in the picture. There was a beautiful blonde in a white wedding gown, the bride I presume, a good looking man in a black tux and a red tie, the groom I’m sure, were in middle of the picture. At the brides side was a the boy and on the grooms side was, undeniably, the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He had a strong jaw line, a perfect, breath-taking smile, black hair, and the most lovely, bright green eyes I’d ever seen.

I stared at him for a while, sort of willing him to come through the picture and be my knight in shinning armor. Yeah, I like fairy tales, so sue me.

I heard a sniffle and I was torn out of my fantasy land. I looked back over to the corner where the boy was. He was huddled in the fetal position.

I slowly walked towards him. “Hey, are you alright?”

“S-stop! S-stop c-coming t-towards me!” he yelled, rather loudly for someone who doesn’t seem to talk a lot.

I stopped. “Why? I’m not going to hurt you.” I may be a loud mouthed bitch, but I still care about people. Sort of.

His eyes were as wide a plates. ”I-its nothing p-personal. I h-have A-aphenphosmphobia.”

My brain did one of those ‘brain blast’ things that jimmy neutron gets. Let me explain. My brain is like a mental book shelf. I contains all the books I’ve ever read and all of their information. I remember every thing I’ve ever read like I read it 5 minutes ago. My mind choose the book ‘Anxiety, Panic, and Phobias’ by Malcolm Lader.

Aphenphosmphobia: the fear of being touched. Otherwise known as Haphephobia.

I smiled gently. “I understand. I’ll just sit here alright?” he nodded and I sat down about 10 feet away from him.

It was silent for a few minutes. I had to break it by asking, “What’s your name?”

He looked up, still a little frightened looking, and replied. “G-gorin. I’m Gorin.”

I smiled and waved. “Hello Gorin. I’m Cordeila. But you can call me Cordy.”

He smiled, it was lovely by the way, “N-nice to m-meet you.”