The first thing you'd expect when you woke up from a long dream is that you slept through the whole night. Well the feeling I got was that I'd just had surgery, which was bad, because that might be saying that everything in my dream did happen. Which also says that somebody kidnapped me and poisoned me in some way. As I was thinking, someone came into the room. The man dressed in a beige suit with a pink tie (looked like a fashionable choice, minus the pink tie) and neatly combed-back hair. He was smiling with a "happy-go-lucky" look to him, while holding a black file folder with, surprisingly, nothing in it. He trotted slowly towards me, then stopped several metres away from me.

I expected something to happen like, for example, asking questions about each other, or the guy running tests on me more, as he probably was the guy in my dream, even though he didn't seem the same, it was only a dream. He took a while to waddle towards the bed but after a few slow minutes he finally arrived at the end of my bed. "Greetings, Evenor. How are you feeling?"

I didn't know how to reply. What I said after that was like pulling out a slip of paper out of a hat. Otherwise I'd be there forever.

"Yo, what's up doc?"

He stares at me with blank eyes, pondering what I just said, then he crossed his arms like he was about to say something but thought about it before he said it. Then he said with an angry voice, something an older-elder would use if someone used slang while talking to him.

"I was the one asking the question, you are the one who will answer them. Oh, and if you act like a smart-ass like that again, I'll have Heriot tazer you to the point of death."

The chilling threat sent chills down my spine, as, John did threaten me that way too.

"Whatever you say doc."

After a couple hours of dreadful testing and torturing, I was sent to my cell that apparently was the nicest they could get for someone so special like me, which I didn't understand, giving that the only thing I was special with was getting myself into trouble. He asked what happened in the Carlynian Sector, and, not surprising, giving I was out for several weeks, longer than he thinks. I was also part-conscious when I came back to the real world. I didn't know what to answer, so the thing I said was this. "Sorry doc, but I can't remember."

It was a lie, as I remember what happened, but one thing that's right is that it isn't completely clear what really happened.

I was laying in the bed that they made for me. The cell looked pretty stylish, especially for a cell for someone as rotten as me. It has a lighten up, neon purple roof, with, surprisingly green iron bars connecting the roof panels to one another. There's a stone slab nailed neatly to the wall with crappy cushions (I call them crappy because they are, not surprisingly, pink and green) and a blue cover, just so they prisoners don't freeze to death. I was just staring up at the ceiling when I heard knocking at my cellway door. It was Archland Jefferson, the all time nicknamed, forehead lady. She got that name because she has a humongous forehead. She will also put an arrow through the middle of your eyes, in your forehead, if you tick her off.

"I had to work my arse off to get you out of here. Chore, after chore, after chore-"

I interrupted her to shut her up. "Relax the crap down, Archland. I know you needed to do lots of chores to get me out of here, but at least you didn't need to blow a hole in the wall. It would be cool though."

We walked along the pathway out of the building when she looked at me with worried eyes.

"You look like crap, I'll get you someone to clean you up when we get back to the Carlynian Sector."

"Well, then where are we right now?"

"The Barlynian Sector."

After a section of fighting with a robot to clean me in places where most boys wouldn't want them to clean, I was able to see Archland again. She was giggling at how much of a commotion I caused while the bot was cleaning me. My hair was in a mess, and, I had rashes on lots of parts on my body, all because the robot was going on overdrive with the cleaning. She then cracked a joke that wasn't funny for me.

"Well, it looks like your clean."

I replied simply with a stern face that wasn't even close to amused.

"Yeah. Much cleaner."

Then, out of nowhere, someone screamed.

"Who's that?"

I asked in a worried fashion. With the most shocked face on Archland I've ever seen, she whimpered.

"It's Charlette!"