Ella

"You never had a dream?" I ask Carol, trying to comprehend that she never had any dream at all while sleeping. "How is that even possible? I mean I've heard some people dreaming in black and white, but never dreaming anything at all?"

"I have no idea," she mutters before putting her pillow between the wall and her as she leans back, crossing her legs in the process. "It's as if I close my eyes, and open them only seconds later. It's weird. I would like to have a dream, but nah, never have."

"That's actually really cool," I admit, despite not wanting to admit that anything revolved around Carol is cool. And although I don't like to admit this either, I'm glad I got her to be my roommate in all of this. She may be annoying and rude at times, but at least I know her somewhat, and don't have to deal with a stranger sleeping in the bed next to mine.

"It's not, though, I would love to dream. Have you ever had a really hot boyfriend and want to dream about him? Exactly, it's annoying," she huffs, and I find myself looking away at the mention of her boyfriends.

"I don't dream about hot guys," I half laugh.

"Dean?" She questions, and I'm surprised there's not an ounce of jealousy in her tone.

"Noooo," I drag out, half lying to an extent. I've dreamed about Dean, but it was nothing hot. We were only friends, and I'm hoping that's what we are now. My grandma used to tell me that if you didn't tell anyone about your dreams, they may come true. As childish as it may sound, I would like for that dream to come true. No more arguments, no more hate, just laughing and getting along. I think of him as a friend, despite all we've been through, and I hope he thinks of me the say way.

"Hmm, you must have not found one hot enough to dream about then. You've really never dreamed about Dean?" She smiles, and I suddenly feel my cheeks blush.

"Not like that," I scoff, not liking where this conversation is going.

"I feel bad for you then," she mutters.

"Can we stop talking about this? I don't care who you dream about, alright?" I huff, not liking where this is going. Even if I did dream about Dean like that it's none of her business. Not that I have, of course, but still.

"If you wish," she dryly laughs. "I'm tired of being caged in here like a rat, it's so annoying. Why won't they let us anywhere besides the halls?" She questions, before adjusting her white T-shirt. "It's so suspicious." I want to tell her that I agree, but I don't. I don't want to sit around and overthink everything. I don't think there's anything to worry about, and they're probably not letting us out for safety reasons. At least, that's the only reason I can think of.

"It's probably for safety purposes," I speak up after a moment.

"Safety? We're in a military base, what do we need protected from? If it's the meteors they're worried about, no amount of keeping us in a room could protect us."

"I don't know, I'm only making speculations," I sigh, not wanting to start an argument. I just want to get out of this little room. We've already been here for a whole day, and we haven't even done anything besides lay around and eat. I wanted to go for a walk, but a Guard didn't let me, and he acted as if I did something wrong. Ever since that I decided I wasn't going anywhere unless they told us we were able to walk around.

"I don't know either, but I'm tired of it all. The only good thing about all of this, is we get to rest. It's so nice to sleep on a bed instead of the road. And it's nice to not get baked in the sun. I feel so bad for you, you should see yourself. You're sunburned everywhere."

"Thank you, so much, Carol, I appreciate it," I roll my eyes.

"I wasn't saying it to be ignorant, jeez," she huffs. "I'm saying I'm glad I'm not you, you look as if it hurts to even breathe."

"It doesn't actually feel too, too bad. It hurts, but the soap actually made it feel better in some weird way. I wonder if it has healing vitamins in it, or something."

"Probably some cheap hotel crap that'll make you break out," Carol states, and I find myself laughing.

"In my luck, it probably is." She laughs a bit too, before sighing as she lies back on her bed.

"This isn't completely terrible with you. You're better when the boys aren't around," she mutters.

"How? I'm the same person," I defend, not knowing where her insults are going to go next.

"No, I know. It's just Dean's not around to take everything I say to you the wrong way, then yell at me. That's mostly why I don't like you. Everyone literally bows down to you, Ella, and you can't even see that. If I had a pair of open your eyes glasses with me, I'd make you wear them just so you could see what I meant." I roll my eyes, before picking at the drawstring on my pants.

"Nobody bows down to me, I don't know where you get all of this from."

"Right there!" She points at me, before smiling shrewdly. "That's what I hate about you. You don't see how much everyone loves you, you're blinded by what you want to see."

"And what's that?" I snap, tired of her telling me what I see through my own eyes.

"You and Dean have had a crappy past, so you think that he hates you, when in reality you have that boy wrapped around your finger more then you know. Mark, too, and he's twelve. He admires you, and you don't even see that. They both care greatly for you and you don't see it, because you dwell on the past. You may see that Mark cares for you, but I know you don't see that when it comes to Dean." I look away from her, and cast my gaze on the white door. I wish she would stop telling me that Dean cares for me. If he cared, I feel as if I would know it, but I don't. I don't even know what I know, not anymore.

Suddenly, the door opens and a Guard walks in before setting down our meal at the end of my bed. "Here's your lunch," he says, before turning to leave, but I stop him.

"Hey, when can we go see the Norovians and stuff?" I ask as I look at the food, it consisting of some sort of soup.

"When they're done counting people and writing down names and stuff. Afterwards, you can see them."

"Names? They have our names?" I ask, wondering how they would know who we are when I never remember telling them who I was.

"They're going around asking each room, they must not have been here yet, then." After he tells me this, I can't help but really look at him, in his white uniform and olive skin, knowing that there's something about him, and that's when I really look into his eyes.

I gasp loudly as I put a hand over my mouth, tears immediately blurring my vision as I figure out who's standing in front of me. "No," I breathe, and Carol automatically sits up in her bed.

"Ella, are you alright? What is it?" She asks, and that's when he catches the familiarity as well once she says my name.

"Hunter," I mumble as the tears begin to fall down my face. "It's my best friend Hunter."