Agonize

/ˈaɡəˌnīz/

verb

to undergo a great mental anguish through worrying about something or someone

Melissa's POV

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Agony. That was all I felt in any part of my body. The searing pain from the bullet was like nothing now. The burning sensation from the open cartilage on my leg was equivalent to being set on fire. Blood seeped through the piece of fabric I had used as a tourniquet around my shin area, and the crimson liquid had yet to stop running from the wound on my thigh.

After I had started the ripping process bombs began to drop and shake everything in the room. Before long, the glass shelves were breaking and crashing down on the meeting table. I was unluckily standing right where the glass splintered thanks to gravity, and the sharp shards of glass pierced my skin, some being big enough to tear long pieces of my skin apart on my leg. I limped over to the duffel bag, knowing that if this continued, I wouldn't be able to carry all the paper files. The tin cabinet was unlocked with the key inside so I opened it, through the duffel bag inside, and locked the door, keeping the key on my wrist.

Another bomb went off a few minutes later, breaking the windows and making them flood in as if they were made of water. I dove under the table, protecting myself with a chair, before too much glass could unhem my skin. Pieces were jabbing into my back, but I could care less about those at the moment.

I looked to the computers, the load bar being almost all the way full. My arms could barely push the chair out of my way from the weakness that took over my body so I could get out from under the table. When the beeping sounded from the monitor, I wasted no time before grabbing the flashdrive and running down the hall.

No one was left in the hall as I ran where I had seen the streams of people go before it settled in that I was lost.

The lights flickered once or twice before going out despite my nonvocal pleas for them to remain on. I kept moving down the hall, my wounds thankfully not gushing too much blood. All was peaceful and quiet until another bomb blew from the other side of the colony.

I hid behind the turn before the heat and debris flew towards me, but was still unlucky.

I should have a nickname, like something to tell people I have the worst luck in the universe.

The heat wasn't too bad, but the debris was terrible. Glass from various objects hurling through the air, miscellaneous objects flinging around the corner towards me, and metal pieces trying to find solid ground to rest on.

When I finally dared to open my eyes to all the smoke, I wish I hadn't. A metal bar only a few feet away had dug into my flesh, ripping it apart and most likely almost breaking the bone. Glass was lodged in my thighs, and dirt covered the open cut on my arms and legs from the meeting room.

The bombing was over, but no one was coming up to look for survivors. My mind could only think about one person at a time like this. Luke.

Was he in the bunker? Did he notice my absence? Was he safe?

My body slumped into the wall I had been leaning against, energy leaving as the blood gushed out of my wounds.

I began to lose consciousness, but then the sound of boots reached my ears. I perk up and began screaming after them.

"I'm here! It's me, Melissa!" After screaming a few times, my voice began to give out but they noticed me and ran towards my still body.

Happiness swelled in my body as I recognized the red hair on the top of his head.

"Michael!" I screamed as he approached. Guilt flashes over his features as he came closer, then I noticed one small difference in his appearance that Michael could never do.

In the short sleeve tanktop he was wearing, it was apparent that he was missing a permanent marking. His tattoo. The one on the inside of his bicep saying, 'To the moon,' in fancy lettering was missing. This wasn't him, but who was it then?

"Melissa?" his voice called out, sounding duplicate to Michael's.

I began to wonder if I imagined the tattoo until I remembered the real Michael's confession to me last time there was a bombing.

He had a brother. And the White Coats used him as a spawn. They were trying to confuse me into giving him information.

"Melissa? Are you okay?" he asked with the same concern that Michael would have.

"You-you're not Michael," I stuttered out.

His soft gaze turned threatening in a matter of seconds as his hand came down and swiped across my face. Tears welled up in my eyes as he said his next words.

"No, I'm Michael's twin. Nice to meet you love, I'm Aaron," he introduced himself with a merciless grin covering his face. "Now how about you give me those files?"

Luke's POV

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My fists clenched and unclenched in impatience. It had been an hour since the last bomb had dropped and we had seen the planes on our radar, yet my father still wouldn't let me go out to find Melissa. He was adamant that we wait another thirty minutes 'just in case.'

The anxiety built in my system the more I waited. I couldn't fight the thoughts running through my mind.

Was she okay? Is she injured? Did they hurt her?

My foot tapped on the floor probably more often than it should have, but the boys didn't say a thing. They knew what I was feeling. Ashton felt it when he was away from Riley. Calum felt it when he was away from his mystery girl. And Michael was feeling the same thing I was at this moment as he was also scared he had lost someone important to him.

When the thirty minutes was up, I was the first one out of their chair, heading over to my father who was counseling a mother that had lost her child in the bunker.

Not that I didn't care about the child that was missing, but I was concerned solely on Melissa's health at the moment.

"Dad," I begin, getting his attention. "It's been thirty minutes."

He rolled his eyes, sick of my persistance. "Wait a minute Luke."

"You said thirty minutes that long ago. I'm going to look for her," I raised my voice, turning my back to him and heading toward the exit.

"What if she's dead?" he shouted after me.

I stopped, freezing in my tracks, and locked eyes with Michael who is right in front of me, standing and ready to go. "Then I'll know she's dead."

Michael nodded at me as I walked by and the boys followed me. The concrete door opened and all four of us stepped out of the bunker. The stairs that were once free of cracks had ridges throughout their cement. The bombs must have been extremely high powered to have done this much damage. But the question I kept asking myself in my head was, 'if this happened here, what happened where Lissa was?'

As if sensing my question, Michael placed his hand on my shoulder, assuring me that she would be alright.

"I think it would be best if I was with Luke and Michael and Calum go together," Ashton spoke up.

"Why don't we all go together? I need to be there when we find Lissa," Michael said, shooting daggers at Ashton for even suggesting his plan.

"Michael, there is so much ground in the colony that if we go together, it could take weeks to sweep this place for her," he reasoned. While understanding his reasoning, I couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt when the thought of not being there when Melissa was found finally sunk into my mind.

"I have to agree with him Mike," I said, giving him an understanding look as I struggled with my emotions as well.

His face fell, but he seemed to get over it quickly as he pulled Calum toward the opposite hallway. When they were out of sight, Ashton looks to me as if asking if I was ready. I nodded and began to walk towards the stairs.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he asked, running after.

"She was in the meeting room, which is on the ground level. We should start looking there and make our way around since she doesn't know how to get to the bunker," I explained.

It was now his turn to nod his head as he followed me up the stairs.

When we came to the meeting room, the glass walls were in shatters, probably caving in from the bombs. The locker in the far corner wasn't open like it usually was. Instead it was on the floor, closed.

My legs carried me toward it, finding it odd that the doors weren't wide open. I tried to open it only to find it was locked. My fingers found the key in my pocket and put it into the handle, opening the door. I look at the duffel bag that was spilling out files upon files of documents in awe.

"What-" Ashton began as he walked over, stopping when he saw the amount of manilla folders lying on the ground.

We moved on to find the hallways soon after, leaving the files spread out on the ground. Debris was scattered everywhere from the destruction the bombs reeked. Doors were blown off their hinges and nothing looked as it did before. My mind wasn't thinking about the colony's civilian's homes but of Melissa. Was it even possible for her to live through this?

Tears welled up in my eyes, knowing that the farther down the hallway we looked, the less chance we would find her alive. The more we walked, the closer to the bomb we became. I felt Ashton's hand on my shoulder before much longer. Out of reflex, I retracted it away from him. If he was going to say she was dead, I would rather not hear it.

"Luke," he snapped at me. I turned around to find an agitated Ashton kneeling toward the ground, but then I see it. The small trail of blood lining the dirty concrete.

My heart rate sped up as I walked closer. The crimson stain brought happiness and sadness to me. I was happy, overjoyed really, that she was alive, but the blood meant that she was injured and judging from the thickness of the stream, it was a severe wound.

I stood up with anxiety in my chest. "Radio Michael and tell him we have a trail," I called over my shoulder as I walked down the dark halls.

"Where are you going?" Ashton yelled after me, not moving to follow me.

I turned around and began walking backwards, not wanting to waste time in getting to Melissa. "I'm following her trail."

My legs led me further down the hallway as my arms pumped at my sides. The adrenaline coursing through my veins at the moment was indescribable. In no way could it compare to a raid. During a raid I was only focused on getting one person out alive, myself. But at this moment, I was still focused on getting only one person out, but that person was a specific blonde haired, blue eyed girl that I could see leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway.

I ran faster, wanting to hear her say that she was okay when clearly she wasn't. I wanted to hear her scold me about being out here when it was so dangerous.

When I came closer to her body though, I noticed how the wounds in her leg were gushing out blood despite her body having no motion. Her body wasn't just leaning on the wall, it was slumped as if all energy was taken away from her.

The tears broke through my eyes like tsunami tides the closer I came to her unresponsive body. I had seen her like this once before, when she was shot and went in and out of consciousness from the pain in her leg, but this time I knew there was a deeper meaning behind her state.

I squatted at her side, pulling her lifeless body to my chest.

"Lissa," I croaked in between shaky breaths.

She gave no response. So, I sat there with her wrapped in my arms, not knowing what else to do but hold her.

Edited: 18 October 2016