Don't judge the title. I've started making up words again.

Don't judge the grammar either. :D
• • •

I'm physically dragged inside the room by my arm. This girl is far stronger than me, so there's no point in struggling.

I'm pulled through the main room and into a smaller space attached to it. The second room has three large metal tables, with kitchen cabinets lining one wall. There are probably about ten people sitting around one of the tables, presumably playing cards.

They all turn to look at me scrutinisingly, and the girl who is still holding onto my arm for dear life, yells, causing more people to flood the room.

They all just stare at me in silence.

Are they expecting me to do something?

"What's your name?" Someone pipes up from the back of the room. I locate the owner of the voice, which belongs to a, not to be stereotypical, but he looks like a jock. A douchy jock.

"Uh, I'm Clover," I reply unsurely. I'm obviously not unsure about my own name, but the amount of eyes pointed in my direction is a little unnerving.

I few people snicker at the mention of my name, but the guy who asked in the first place lets out a burst of full blown laughter.

I roll my eyes, shaking my arm out of the tall girls grip so I can cross my arms over my chest.

"That's really your name?" He asks, continuing to laugh.

I mean, is it really that comical?

"Yes jackass, that's really my name. I obviously wouldn't have said it if it wasn't my name, would I?" I retort.

The smile drops right off his face, as people snigger at his failed attempt at...whatever he was trying to do.

"Where are you from?" One of the girls seated at the table asks.

"Wescott," I reply, not at all anticipating the reaction I receive. Whispers and looks of belief erupt throughout the room.

I frown, looking around in confusion. "What?"

"Wescott is kinda famous around here," the girl at the table explains. "We've all heard the stories about monsters and cannibalism. I'm sure they're not true."

I look at my feet. Stories, yeah, I wish.

"They're not true, are they?" She asks.

"I wish they weren't," I reply, running a hand thought my hair. "Wait, where are you guys from?"

"We're from Wayland, the forth dome," she says, looking around at everyone.

"All of you?" I ask. How the hell are there so many of them?

"Yeah, we got out about a month ago."

"How did so many of you make it out?" I ask in disbelief.

"They blew Wayland up. Everyone who survived grouped together, we found a door in the side of our dome, and here we are. How many are left from Wescott?" She asks, sensing that their situation was a lot different from ours.

"Eight. Four of them are cannibals, and one of those four tried to kill me. We're not such a tight knit group," I reply, somewhat bitterly.

"You're not going to try and eat us, are you?" She asks skeptically.

I snort. "No, It's not me you should be worrying about. Flynn, this kid who looks like Frankenstein, and the blender face girls are the people eaters. Flynn should be easy to spot, he has a broken nose," I snicker to myself.

"Who are the other four?" Somebody else pipes up.

"Well there's me obviously, then there's Cassidy, she's the bitch of the century. Aaron comes across as a little slow, but he's the sweetest kid you'll ever meet. And then there's..." I swallow hard. "You guys haven't come across a guy called Noah, have you? He's tall, dark haired, has green eyes, and hardly ever smiles."

"Sorry, haven't seen him," the girl at the table says. "Who is he?"

"It's hard to explain," I reply, scratching my head. "It's a long story, but he's the only family I have left."

She nods in understanding. "I'm sure he'll turn up at some point."

I sigh. "I hope so."

silence settles over the room for a few moments, but with all of these testosterone filled males, that doesn't last long.

One guy cups has hands over his mouth. "Got any powers?!"

I raise an eyebrow. "Powers?"

"Yeah, like this," The girl next to me says. She opens one of the cabinets, and pulls out a very large, very sharp looking knife. Her motives seem unclear until she throws it in the direction of my face.

I flinch, closing my eyes and preparing for impact. It's not like it would kill me because, well, I'm basically invincible, but still, a knife to the skull doesn't seem particularly appealing. The impact doesn't come, so eventually I open my eyes. The knife is hovering about an inch in front of my face.

"Jesus," I exclaim, stepping back. There is nothing holding it there, so I look around. The girl at the table has her arm outstretched, with her palm directed towards the knife.

"Telekinesis," I say. "Nice."

She just nods, using all of her concentration to hold the sharpened piece of metal in the air. I hold my hand out, and take the handle of the knife. I can't move it while it's being held there by the girl at the table, so I give her a nod and she lets her arm drop to her side.

I should really ask her what her name is.

It drops into my hand, and with the other hand I grasp the blade. I squeeze it as hard as I can until blood drips on the floor, and then I pull the handle, allowing the blade to slice my hand open.

I wince as I open my fist, showing the palm of my hand to the intrigued crowd. They don't seem particularly worried about me, but they're very curious, waiting for something to happen. It's like they're at a magic show and I'm the clown.

It's hard to explain, but I can feel the skin repairing itself. It doesn't hurt as such, it's just an odd sensation. I see their mouthes drop open, and I turn my hand around so I can see the palm. I nod in approval.

They all remain staring at me.

"What?" I say, snapping a most of them out of their daze.

The girl at the table stands up, and holds her hand out to me to shake. I take hand in mine and shake it firmly. "I'm Robyn," she introduces herself.

"Uh, it's nice to meet you," I reply a little awkwardly. I couldn't say 'hey, I'm Clover' because she already knows that.

"Come with me," she says. It doesn't sound like an order, but she has this leader vibe about her. She seems to do most of the talking for the group, and they don't question her.

She leads me out of the kitchen dining area and into the bunk room. She stops in front of a set of bunks with a body in the bottom one. Not a dead body, well hopefully not.

Robyn shakes the body on the bottom bunk, and the person waves their arms around wildly before sitting up groggily. "What?"

"You've got a new bunkmate," Robyn explains.

"Oh," he says, looking me up and down. "Sup, I'm Oakley."

"Clover," I reply.

He nods at me in approval. "We can be plants together."

I chuckle as Robyn pats his shoulder. "You should probably get out of bed at some point," she recommends.

"Don't tell me how to live my life," he mutters, rolling over.

She sighs. "You can't say I don't try with him. He just thinks he doesn't have to listen to me because I'm his sister."

"I can hear you Robby," Oakley mumbles into his blanket.

"Good, then maybe you'll do as you're told."

"Hmmm, no. Not likely Robby, but good try."

"He was always the disobedient child," she says. "Anyway, you're on the top bunk." She walks over to a tall cupboard. "I'm guessing you'll want to shower, so here's a towel."

She opens the adjacent cupboard, and hands me a pile of clothing. "These should fit."

She then points me in the direction of the bathroom so I can shower. I avoid all mirrors as I step into the locker room like bathroom. There are probably twelve shower cubicles, each equipped with soap, shampoo, and conditioner. I leave my clean clothes on a bench outside the cubicle, and step inside with my towel.

I just let the water run over me for a while, before I attempt to untangle my hair. It probably takes a solid fifteen minutes before I'm satisfied with the cleanliness of my hair.

I scrub my body until my skin is red, but at least I'm finally clean. I even find a razor and shave my legs for the first time in almost half a year. Very time consuming, and oddly unsatisfying. I was getting used to my fuzzy legs.

I wrap the towel around me, and exit the cubicle. I quickly change into the new clothes, which are pretty similar to the ones I was already wearing, except y'know, clean and not ripped. They fit surprisingly well, other than the sleeves of the sweatshirt being a little too long.

I leave my hair out to dry properly, and leave the bathroom, throwing my towel in a basket of other used towels on the way out. As soon as the door is open I can smell food.

I get to the kitchen in record time and find everyone else seated at the tables, eating roast chicken.

I start to salavate just at the thought of eating a home cooked meal. Robyn sees me and smiles, moving over on the bench seat to offer me a seat. I take it gratefully, and a plate of food is pushed in front of me.

I just marvel at its beauty for a few moments. The gravy on the chicken almost glistens, and the mashed potatoes are like puffy clouds.

Robyn nudges me. "You okay?"

"This is so beautiful. I think I might cry," I reply, still ogling at the glorious sight.

I pick up a knife and a fork, which to be honest, is a very foreign concept. I scoop up some mashed potatoes, and shovel them into my mouth. I don't even chew, I just let them melt in my mouth before swallowing.

"This is the best thing I have ever eaten," I sigh, taking another bite.

"It's just potato," the guy sitting across me says, looking at me like I'm the weirdest species he's ever laid eyes on.

I frown at him as I chew. Offence taken.

I hear a gasp from further down the table. "Did you say just a potato?"

I look to see Oakley with his mouth hanging open. "What do you mean just a potato? I hope you're happy Matt, you've offended my religion."

Matt raises an eyebrow at Oakley. "And what religion would that be?"

"Potatism," he replies.

Matt rolls his eyes. "That's not a religion."

Oakley sticks his nose in the air sassily. "Well I believe in it."

Matt shakes his head but doesn't continue with the argument.

I snort out a laugh while my mouth is full of chicken and carrots. Ungraceful, but nobody seems to care.

About halfway through my plate, I start to feel sick and have to stop eating. It's unfortunate because I still want to eat, but I heard once that if you go from eating nothing to eating lots, you can actually die. Scary right?

I push my plate away so I'm not tempted as I wait for everyone else to finish.

"So what was life like in Wayland?" I ask once I see that Robyn is finished eating.

She shrugs. "Pretty normal I guess. Nothing ever happened there."

I nod. "Sounds about the same as Wescott, until people started getting infected. It was really downhill from there."

Robyn raises her eyebrows. "Infected?"

I sigh, scratching the back of my neck. "There where these robots, well we didn't know they were robots, so we called them killers. They infected people with this incurable disease where they would turn almost...rabid, and kill anyone they could find. That's how most people died."

"Sounds intense," another guy comments. "How'd you survive?"

"By running mostly, and I wouldn't have survived without Noah. He saved my life on more than one occasion," I say, staring at the table.

"You said he was family?" Robyn asks.

"Not by blood. He more or less took me in." I bite my lip. "You know the guys who look like stormtroopers right?"

"Stormtroopers?"

"Yeah, Star Wars, stormtroopers..."

She shakes her head slowly like she has no idea what I'm talking about. "Wow, okay...um, the guys wearing the white suits. You know the ones I'm talking about right?"

Everyone in a close enough vicinity to hear me is looking at me with this expression, like they have no clue what the hell I'm talking about.

"When we got here there was this hologram of a guy who kind of explained things and then led us here. We haven't seen any other people since we were dropped off here. And then you arrived," Robyn explains.

"They tried to break us into two groups, guys and girls, but Noah didn't cooperate and one of the soldiers shot him. I don't even know if he's alive," I say, staring at my plate, which doesn't seem all that appealing anymore.

After the conversation ends, people gradually start filing into the bunk room and heading to bed. I do the same, climbing the cool metal ladder to my bunk.

"Goodnight Clover," Oakley says from below me on the bottom bunk.

"G'night Oakley," I reply.

"Goodnight Robby!" He yells across the room, causing people to groan at his loudness.

"Shut up Oakley," she responds.

"Rude," I hear him scoff. He rolls over, causing the bunk to creak.

Oh joy.

I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. I will my eyes to close, but I just can't sleep. The mattress isn't comfortable, and that's saying something coming from me. The pillow is itchy, and I'm slightly too warm.

I don't sleep at all, and while everyone wakes up in the morning, I still haven't been to sleep.

Oakley yawns obnoxiously. "How'd ya sleep Clover?"

I sigh. "Fine. How about you?"

"Like a dead guy."

I frown. "What?"

"I slept like a dead guy. People always say they slept like a baby, but babies don't sleep, they just cry and poop. Dead guys don't do that."

I snort. "Right. That's an interesting perspective."

"Well yeah, it makes sense, I'm an interesting person."

A loud booming sound appears very suddenly and gives me such a fright that I almost fall off the bunk.

"What the hell is that?" I ask, climbing down from my bunk.

Oakley rolls out of bed and onto the floor. "I wouldn't have a clue."

The thing happens again and everyone looks around in confusion. Then a stupid siren sound echoes through the room, and a robotic voice follows.

"Robyn Dime, Oakley Dime, and Clover Collins. Please exit the dorm and make your way to room six hundred and sixty six."

It stops for about five seconds before the same message is repeated.

I look at Oakley, who seems just as clueless as me. Robyn is flustered when she finds us, which doesn't seem to be in her nature.

"What should we do?" She asks anxiously.

"Go to room six hundred and sixty six I guess," I reply.

"Where even is that?" Oakley asks.

"Down that corridor. I passed it on my way here," I reply, just as the message starts to repeat again. "Let's just go before that thing explodes."

I lead them out of the dorm, and into the white corridor. The room they want us to go to isn't every far away, but the number on the door is slightly unnerving.

I twist the handle, which is conveniently unlocked this time.

Of course it's unlocked now.

I push the door open, which reveals a large white room. No surprises that the room is white, but I don't dwell on the colour too much because the circle of evenly spaced chairs in the centre of the room draws my attention.

There are eight chairs. Four are filled, and four aren't. The people who are already seated turn to look at us. They look about our age, but don't look particularly pleased about our arrival.

I walk further into the room, with Robyn and Oakley following. As I walk closer, I notice that the chairs are actually arranged into groups of two within the circle. In front of each group of two is a name. The two chairs for Walton are already filled, as are the two for Wakefield, and the two for Wayland are filled By Robyn and Oakley.

I sit down on one of the two chairs for Wescott, staring at the empty seat next to me. I close my eyes and sigh as another door opens from the other side of the room and a bald man with a white lab coat and a clip board walks in.

The boy from Walton, who is obnoxiously chewing gum, curls his top lip in disgust. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm doctor Farris," he replies calmly.

"Well what the fuck do you want?" The same boy asks.

"To see what you're capable of," he replies. "And to help you improve."

"Improve what?"

"I'll show you," Dr Farris says, looking around at each person before his eyes settle on the empty seat next to me, They flick to me, and he points a finger at me.

"Clover Collins I presume?" He asks.

I nod in return.

"Ask me a question, Miss Collins, any question at all."

"Where's Noah?" I ask without blinking. I try my best to stare into his soul while I'm at it.

He doesn't miss a beat. "He's dead."

"You're lying," I reply.

"And you know that, how exactly?"

"I can hear your heartbeat, Dr Farris," I spit, leaning forward in my seat. "And yours just speed up, which is exactly what happens when you're lying."

"Extraordinary," he comments. "And quite true, he's not dead, perfectly fine actually." He points to the back of the room to the door the we came through.

As soon as it opens I leave my seat and dash over to him.

"It's good to see you too, Princess."

• • •

I hope you appreciate this long ass chapter. I actually did it because you're probably going to be mad at me for the next thing I say.

I'm working over the summer, and I'm not going to be home for a few months. I'm not going to have wifi either which is a complete tragedy. That also means that I won't be able to update.

Sorry, but that's life and I need the money. Poor af over here.

Please comment, vote and follow.

Until next time.