"This thing only lasts for a few hours. Get it done with before it wears off and she wakes up," came a grim voice. It was slightly feminine, but it could easily be mistaken for a man's voice as well, so it was hard to tell.

There were some hushed murmurs and the shuffling of feet before the blonde haired girls was wheeled off into another room on her gurney by two people, clad in white.

All around her there was bright light, and in the distance, almost muffled, was the sound of a heart rate monitor, reminding Kennedy of the one time she had been to the hospital.

Her body wanted to react and force her to get up but it was as if she wasn't in her body. She could see herself, down below, on the gurney.

Her first thought was that she was dead and witnessing the crazy experiments now being taken out on her lifeless body.

No. Not lifeless. Looking closely he could see her chest heaving up and down slowly, as her body took in air and breathed it out.

The people in white now donned surgical masks, and in their hands were trays filled with all sorts of medical equipment Kennedy didn't recognise, but he had a feeling she didn't want to. Most of them were sharp, like knives, while other syringes were filled with weird coloured liquids. She could've sworn one of them was glowing, but she couldn't see properly because as she tried to double check, the man – she assumed it was a man because of his stocky build – turned around. Picking up one of the syringes, he held it out to the other person, who flicked the needle once, preparing it, before slowly taking Kennedy's hand.

She wanted to shout at herself to wake up, but it was no use. The needle was getting closer and closer to piercing her skin...

Kennedy's eyes snapped open.

At first, she thought she was unable to move, and that sent her into a slight panic, but then as she actually gave it some effort, her hands shifted from beside her, to the top of her head, rubbing her temples as a sudden headache hit her out of the blue. As if the action was what had caused it.

It felt like she was back in her own bed, on a Monday morning, hungover from the night before. For a second she was almost relieved. Kole would be in the next room, sleeping off his own hangover, probably with a naked girl beside him, and Kennedy would have the honour of kicking her out later. The whole thing with the people in white and the hospital was just a dream. Nothing had happened. She was safe.

However, as she forced herself to sit up, all those reassuring thoughts left her mind.

Looking around the room she was in, she realised the room looked all too familiar. Like she had seen it very recently. And she supposed she had, in a way. In her dreams.

The walls were tiled, and there was a single light overhead, swinging from side to side slowly, allowing her to tell that the tiles were white, or at least used to be. She figured the place must have been around for a while, because they were covered in filth and grime, much like she presumed she herself was at that moment. She looked down and saw that she was dressed in a hospital gown of sorts, and there were multiple bands around her arm, all of different colours. Recalling the dream, she remembered the various syringes. Had she been injected with all of them?

She shook her head lightly. She could figure that out later. For now, she needed to know where she was, and more importantly, how to get out.

Fumbling to get the bands off of her arms, she let her legs swing off the bed and land on the cold floor, which also happened to be tiles. There were no other pieces of furniture in sight, save for the gurney she had been sleeping on, and a tray at the far end of the room, near the door, which she had watched way too many movies to know was probably locked.

The worst she had gotten when messing with a client was a bullet in her shoulder. This was taking things to a whole new level. She just hoped Kole was okay.

Letting the coloured bands fall to the ground, she made her way to the door, just for the heck of it, and tried to jiggle the handle. Locked. Of course.

Muttering a curse, Kennedy opted to see what the tray had on it. Apart from a few empty syringes, she saw nothing else that could help her in any way.

She didn't have anywhere to keep it, and she sure as hell wasn't about to run around with sharp needles in her hand, so she decided against taking them at all.

She was out of options right now, seeing nothing else in the room that could help her, and to make matters worse the light above was still swinging from side to side, intensifying the pain she felt in her head.

Just when she was about to slump to the floor in defeat, she paused and glanced up at the light.

How was it swinging from side to side if the door was closed? She didn't see any windows either, it would have let some light in if there were even one.

Now alert with the possibility of escape in her mind, she let her eyes scan the room, trying to find the source of wind. The room was still too dark, even with the single source of light, but she managed to spot a small vent at the other end of the room.

But just as luck would have it, she heard voices from the other side of the door.

"...status report. If she's awake, then inject her again. We haven't finished the whole process yet."

In a hurry, Kennedy rushed over to the gurney, pushing it to the end of the room where she had seen the vent. It was a bit of an effort, for some reason, which led her to believe that whatever they had done to her seriously drained some of her energy, making her weak. The voices got closer now, and she could hear someone try to open the door, only to realise it was locked.

She pried the vent open, surprised to find that it wasn't bolted in place. For some reason, this made her feel like the escape was too easy, but it was an opportunity to get out, and for the moment, that was all she wanted, so she took it.

Just as the door opened behind her, she placed her palms inside the vent and lifted herself up into it, grateful, not for the first time, that she was an eighteen year old in the body of an eighth grader. She didn't give her petite body enough credit, but she knew to never bash herself over her size ever again.

Kennedy heard alarmed voices behind her aspeople came into her room to find her gone, but she tuned them off, focusing ononly one thing for now. Getting out.