Maxon POV: (sorry guys, this is more of a filler than anything. I promise next chapter is a bit more eventful)
Ouch..
I shift, my head pounding like millions of tiny hammers. Did that really just happen? The thought of it could almost make me cry. America..I'd lost her again. Or at least whatever part of her was left, anyways.
     Slowly, I sit up, leaning against the back-bored of the bed. As I lift my arm to rub my head, I feel a slight ache. Looking down, I spot a small pink bandage sticking out of my sleeve. Oh..the shot.
     Half sighing, half huffing, I take in the room around me. It was simply furnished, and pretty small, with only a small sitting chair, the bed I was on, and a desk and chair. The wallpaper was a standard white, the floors a light brown.
   It was obviously a guest room, and a old one at that. Beside the bed, on the desk, was a small tray with milk, bread, eggs, bacon, and fruit on it. Hm. I guess it's either mid morning, or close to afternoon. Wincing, I stand up, feeling a distinct ache where the guard kicked me in the stomach.
Ignoring the tray, I stumble over to the door, pulling it open. Or that was the plan anyways. Just as I had suspected, I was locked in.
As unmanly as this sounds, I almost cry. I was trapped. I couldn't save her. Who knew what they were doing to her, right now, as I sit in this room? Hell, they could have killed her already.
Barely seeing through my tears, I sit back on the bed, my hands in my head. Hell, she could be dead already. Did I really just think that? What has this selection, this 'beautiful' 'perfect' event done to my life? She would have been safe, had I never met her. She would have been happy. But I ruined it all....I hadn't protected her...
Lying down, I close my eyes, falling into a restless sleep.