I saw the hotel and sighed in relief. There are no words to describe the sheer amount of relief I felt. As in, not enough words in the human dictionary. That's how relieved I felt.

But then it hit me. I had three gunshot wounds – a sentence I never thought I'd say – blood in my nails, and two knives in my skirt. There was no way I could just walk through the front doors in this condition. I was surprised no one was staring at me from outside. Granted, it seemed that no one was outside.

I quicky ducked behind a bush, against the wall. I pulled my bag in front of me and looked through it. The only things I packed were my books, some lunch, pyjamas, an extra uniform, tissues, and a water bottle. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

I pulled out a couple of tissues and my water bottle. I poured a little bit of water onto them. I managed to clean my fingers okay. But I had a hole in one of my palms. As well as my shoulder and leg. The bullets hadn't travelled all the way through, so I thought it over, and decided on leaving them. I'd start bleeding even worse if I did pull them out.

I wrapped the knives up in a tissue and put them under my lunch to hide them. I pulled out my spare uniform and contemplated hiding behind another bush, or just getting changed there. After a long internal argument, I got dressed behind the bush and put everything back into my bag. It was black, so I couldn't find any blood stains that were too noticeable. At least, you couldn't see them unless you were looking.

So, I slung my bag over my shoulder, wincing slightly as it hit my wound. But it was better to have the strap cover my shoulder in case it bled through the white on my shirt. Unfortunately, the black shorts were not long enough to cover my shin, and my socks only reached up to my ankles.

I quickly used my fingers as a hairbrush and walked in through the front door. I was about to walk up to the front desk when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I quickly turned, in a slight panic, but immediately relaxed when I saw Zak.

"Wow, you're actually alive," Zak had an expression I couldn't read on his face. "And your clean. There was blood covering your shirt, and in your hair when I left. Oh, and your neck was sliced open."

"I promise I will explain everything," I sighed, "just not here."

Zak nodded and went up the stairs. I followed him and glanced around. The hotel was very bright, with blue tones. Seemed that was everyone's favourite colour scheme these days. However, it was a heritage building, and so the interior was slightly older, which I didn't mind so much. I really just hated the blinding white of the modern era. Like, were people trying to ruin their eyesight or something?

Zak brought me up to the third floor and a room a little down the hall labelled 3E. Inside wasn't much. One single bed, a TV, and a small bathroom. It was also not that brilliant white on the ground floor, it was various shades of blue and navi. Zak sat down on the bed and looked at me expectantly.

"Okay, well ... it's sort of a long story," I felt my hands heat up and shake. "Um, ever since I arrived in Joondalup to live with you and Samara, things have been happening. Things I don't even know how to explain."

"Okay...," Zak nodded in thought, "elaborate."

"Um, well, you know how I had those scabs?" I asked.

"Yeah?" Zak answered with a questioning gaze.

"Well, um, they healed," I went on, "like, the day I got there. And I had these weird dreams. Like, the first night I was walking towards a ball of light. In the second one, this red light seemed to be trying to rip the dream apart and kill me. Every time I fall asleep the dream starts up where I left it, and I wake up with any injuries I had healed. Of course, if I scratch myself in the dream, where I got hurt aches for about an hour."

"What?" Zak seemed to be even more confused. "Is that what just happened then? You had that dream and your neck injury, I guess that's what it is to you, healed?"

"Not exactly," I answered. "I ended up in some Altar, I think the man called it. Um, a girl named Maddie and a man named Mors were arguing over whether they were going to explain why these things have been happening, but apparently telling me leads to the destruction of the world. I'm sorry. I wish I knew more myself."

Zak silently nodded. "How come you move in, and you get cool powers, but I live there my whole life and I get nada?"

I snorted at that, and we both broke out into laughter. He was taking it surprisingly well, but my guess was that he was internalising his freak out so that he didn't hurt my feelings.

"I don't think it's got anything to do with that," I claimed. "As Mr Farsnic said, Mum was also a miracle survivor."

"Does that mean this is happening to Jade as well?" Zak asked.

"I never thought about it that way," I answered honestly. It was entirely possible that if I was facing this, Jade was too. Maybe that was why she'd been acting so strange. Or had she been dealing with this for longer? I'm fifteen, maybe she started getting dreams when she was fifteen. But my birthday is in August. So, that seems unlikely considering this all started in February.

"What do you think caused this sudden change?" Zak asked.

"I honestly think it has something to do with my parents disappearance," I replied.

"Maybe," Zak said thoughtfully. "But if you get this from your Mum, and I'm not dealing with this, I doubt your Dad has much to do with it."

I nodded. "They're gone."

I don't think I'd ever really come to terms with it. But they were gone. Probably dead, although clearly Mum had some trick up her sleeve. What I didn't understand however was why she was still missing. If the Clark Corporation had her, she'd probably be able to escape, if anyone else had her she'd be able to escape. It just, wasn't adding up.

I ducked into the bathroom after a few minutes of agonising silence. I dropped my bag on the ground and sighed as a weight was literally lifted off my shoulders. I could see that my shoulder had started bleeding under the pressures of my bag. My hand was wrapped up tight in tissues, and despite there being a giant hole, wasn't bleeding as much. Both surprisingly, and unsurprisingly my shin was doing the best.

I closed the door and undressed myself so that I could do this easily. My shin would be a lot easier, so I handled that first. I tried seeing if I could just squeeze the bullet out, rather than stick my fingers in there and pull it out, but it didn't work. There was no way I was going to reach in there with my bare hands though, so I had to do a little improvisation.

I searched my bag for anything I could use, and I didn't find anything that would qualify as helpful. There were the knives, but I doubted they'd be a very healthy way of doing this, especially considering they were caked in other people's blood. Then I saw it. The solution. I had an extra spiral notebook, and I cringed at the idea I had. But I needed to get the bullets out. So, I took the wire out of the book and bent it into thirds with a slight curve on the end to catch the actual bullet. It looked painful, and it hurt to even think about. But desperate times call for extremely desperate measures. No matter how painful they may seem.

I took a deep breath and slowly used the makeshift hook to fish out the bullet. When I tell you it hurt, I don't think you'll understand exactly how much it hurt. Because it hurt, a lot. It was three thin strands of metal, rubbing against the inner flesh of my leg to dig out a bullet! That. Shit. Fucking. Hurts! But I pushed through the pain and managed to get the bullet out. Of course, my leg had started to bleed more heavily.

Getting the bullet in my shoulder took a lot more effort, seeing as I had to contort to even get to the wound. Try contorting your upper body to stick something into your shoulder. Not fun at all. But again, I managed to get the bullet out.

I grabbed more tissues and used the sink to patch up my leg and shoulder. I wiped them clean, and then took a damp tissue and placed it directly onto the wound. I then sort of paper mached dry tissues over the top. Of course, that wouldn't do too well, so I also used toilet paper as a makeshift bandage. All in all, a very regrettable experience, but it would all be fine in the morning.

I put my uniform back on, and took my bloody one out, as well as the bloody knives I used back at the lab. I needed to get the clothes washed quickly, and I'd rather not have to hide bloody knives in my bedroom. But I was tired. Coming back from the dead and then killing a bunch of people took a surprising amount of energy. I'd clean them after I got some sleep and food in me.

I came out and saw Zak, sitting on the bed speedily writing something into his notebook. I was almost afraid to ask. After all, with what I just told him there could be any number of things going through his head. What terrified me was that he might just hand me over now that he knew. I wouldn't be surprised. I mean, what kind of a freak would take a girl in after finding out she's some crazy immortal being. Probably one wanting immortality for themselves.

"Is it possible you're some sort of angelic being?" Zak asked. "Angels didn't die, did they?"

"No?" I sat down next to him. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, Ciara's crazy into every single branch of history you can come up with," Zak shook his head with a fond smile. "She once said something about how all stories are technically true, just misinterpreted or misunderstood as time passed. Maybe your story was told centuries ago?"

"Okay, you're making me feel really dumb right now," I chuckled. "Stop making so much sense, it's hurting my brain."

"Sorry," Zak rolled his eyes. "But when Ciara's your best friend for over three years you start to be a little logical."

"I just came back from the dead," I whined, "I don't have the energy to think right now."

Zak laughed at that. "Okay, take a nap," he sighed. "I'll go forage for food. Like a bin chicken."

"Good night bin chicken," I said groggily as a laid down. "See you when I wake up..."

And I drifted off into the exhaustion that is my dreams.

Okay, I admit I was very tired, but when that bleeds over into your sleep you may just end up dying. Yes, I was able to come back, but I wasn't keen on trying death by freakish nightmare. It wasn't on my list of priorities believe it or not.

So, I was somewhat thankful that Zak shook me awake at roughly six at night. I was still tired of course. Wow, Mors was right, death does take a lot out of a person. But I peeled my eyes open and saw that Zak had an expression on his face that I couldn't read. Almost a combination of fear and guilt, but that still didn't seem to quite describe it.

"Flora... how did you escape?" Zak asked.

I bit my lip. This was what I was afraid of. Admitting I was a murderer. Technically speaking I was a serial killer. Oh my God, I was a serial killer.

"Um, well," I sat up and looked at my lap. "It's complicated..."

"Really?" Zak crossed his arms. "Because the news is saying there was an accident at the Clark Corporation, where some chemical leaked, and twelve people had their throat explode."

"Explode?" I asked.

"Rupture, burst," Zak listed, "same difference."

"Okay, so, I might have done some things," I refused to look him in the eyes. "It wasn't the plan but, things go wrong and–"

"And you killed a bunch of people?" Zak asked. "With the same switchblade you used on yourself?"

"I'm not proud of it," I sighed, "but you weren't there."

"Obviously! I would have stopped you!" Zak shouted. "You murdered a bunch of people! Flora, that's serious!"

"I know!" I exclaimed, feeling water starting to form in my eyes. "But they were watching us! They threatened to kill you! They stole my corpse so that they could repeatedly kill me and use me as their lab rat! I had to do something! I couldn't just let them do that to me or you!"

"Flora, that is twelve people dead!" Zak screamed. "Lila Gilroy! We go to school with both of her children!"

"I know!" I shouted. "How many times do I have to say that? I know! Okay! But I can't think of them like that! Because then I stop being a girl trying to escape, and start being a monster!"

Zak sighed and, surprisingly, pulled me into a hug. I quickly wrapped my arms around him and tried to blink away the tears.

"I can't pretend to know anything about what you're going through," Zak whispered, squeezing me a little, "but family comes first. Flora, you did what you felt you had to do. I don't necessarily agree with it, but it's too late now. I honestly don't know what I would have done in your shoes, but I'm sorry that you have to deal with all of this. Just know you can talk to me."

And that was the final straw. All of the tears I'd been pushing back since I started having these dreams came out. I was trembling, and it all came rushing out at once. Everything about my parents, my friends, my predicament, the Clark Corporation. All of it. Honestly, I was thankful Zak was there to hold me up and stop me from collapsing.

I wished none of this had happened to me. I could have had a normal year, at Sacredooka with Triston and Addison, third wheeling as they flirted endlessly with each other. You know, the normal high school experience. Not hiding out in a hotel, bawling my eyes out because I don't even know what I am anymore. Let alone who I am.

Of course, my mental breakdown was interrupted when Zak's phone started ringing. He pulled it out and it was Samara.

"Shit," he answered, the phone and held it to his ear. "Hi Mum. How are you?"

Zak nodded with a panicked expression on his face as Samara presumably answered with some form of a scolding.

"Yeah, we are all fine," Zak replied nervously. "The students and teachers were evacuated and all of us made it out safely before all of the throats exploded."

So, me being the idiot I am, hadn't considered the consequences of killing all those people, when we were supposed to be on an excursion. I physically slapped myself, as Zak listened to whatever it was Samara was saying.

"Yeah um, the excursion has now been cancelled," Zak waved his free hand around, as though it would somehow help him out. "We should be home by tomorrow. Probably sometime in the middle of the day."

I watched as Zak's mannerisms changed slightly. He seemed slightly happy with the outcome. I tuned out the rest of what Zak said, however. I turned to the TV when I saw that they were interviewing Dicko. Of course, they'd want to talk to the survivors. Rather unfortunate that I left this bastard alive though.

"Yes well, I managed to help a few others out of the building," he said with a very smug expression on his face. More like ran scared, I thought. I was starting to see why his girlfriend's son had a problem with him. He lives up to his name.

"I also managed to recover some of the miracle cure as the media has named it," Dicko smiled. "It's well protected and I'm glad to say it was not affected by the chemical leak."

The syringe! That was no miracle cure! Lila said it was some chemical extracted from my DNA that could melt your internal organs upon injection! It's how they knew I wasn't dead! How on Earth did he think he was going to construct a miracle cure from that!? It was a recipe for death!

I didn't manage to catch much of the rest, being that I was just about to burst with rage, but I did catch what Zak said.

"Richard Wilcox?" He asked. "That's an unfortunate name."

"Suites him," I said bitterly. "Our dear friend Dicko stole some chemical they found in my DNA and is claiming it's the miracle cure. Only problem is, it melts your internal organs until you're a sack of blood."

"Yeah, I don't think I plan on getting this miracle vaccine," Zak nodded with a look of disgust. "I'd rather not face such a brutal end to my life. I kind of liked how it was going."

"What do you think they're gonna do with it?" I asked.

"Well, they may try to form a miracle cure," Zak shrugged, "but I think they might use it to find you or others like you. Maybe the chemical has something to do with all of this?"

I sighed. "The chemical should have killed me," I crossed my arms. "It's probably the one factor of many."

Zak nodded, and we hadn't seemed to have gotten anywhere, except to the history books when Zak asked if I was an angel.