Jerome, AZ
September 24th, 2018
20:21:34

Vonda's POV

I opened my eyes to find a boy standing over me, bathed in soft, purple light. At first, I couldn't remember where I'd seen him, but after a moment I stuttered, "J-Jonathan?" I looked at his feet, that'd just jumped back in surprise, then it dawned on me that the light was moving wherever I looked. From the unfamiliar boy's concerned face to the ceiling and then back to the floor, the light swerved like two strobe lights on a stage, following a dancer. I sat up, holding my right hand in front of my face. The suspicion I'd momentarily possessed had been confirmed. Dread swelled in my chest as I realized the lights were coming from my eyes.

Naturally, I panicked. Full-fledged panic. I scrambled, scooting back as far as I could until I crashed into a wall I didn't know was there, shaking my head vehemently. I pressed my back up against the wall, my eyes wide, looking around at the room. Everywhere I looked became illuminated and was then thrown back into oblivion the moment I looked away.

"Jonathan, what's happening?" I asked, looking at him, my voice suddenly high-pitched. I could feel my heart pounding in my throat, the core of my being shaking, my muscles weak. "Please for fucks sake don't tell me I'm glowing" I spat out, choking on my words. How could this be happening?

Jonathan walked towards me cautiously. Surprisingly, he seemed to actually care. I was appalled that anyone could see me like this and still bear to talk to me. Oh, also, I was glowing. That's generally a turn-off.

He opened his mouth, saying something about how it would be ok. I could hardly hear him over the sound of blood rushing through my ears.

"Yea, yea, I'm gonna be just fine besides the fact that I'm having a mental breakdown on my fucking birthday also this room is full of spiders and did I mention that my EYES ARE GLOWING because they sorta kinda are could you possibly knock me out now?" I gasped, almost unable to breathe. I couldn't take any more surprises.

He walked over and sat next to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Hey, listen, I promise you, we're gonna get through this. Together. I don't know you but I've been there, only I didn't have anyone to keep me from trying to kill myself." My eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets and I spun around to look him in the eye.

"Are- are you ok?" Suddenly my heart filled with concern for him, a foreign feeling in my pool of emotions. Had he been through this? Was it all about to get worse?

"This is the room where people like us, people whose powers aren't immediately revealed, get tortured until they're squeezed out like juice from a lemon. Then they just leave us here to decay. But anyway, what they squeezed out of me is that I'm immortal. And it only took me 15 suicide attempts on one night to figure it out." Something inside me died a little hearing that.

15 suicide attempts? Holy shit, man... just holy shit. I must have thought it out loud because he tilted his head in my direction. I couldn't read the expression on his face, but I kept talking softly.

"I just... I hope you're ok now." Tears balanced on the ends of my eyelids, but I managed to keep them contained. Just barely. His hand dropped from my shoulder and down to his side, then unconsciously he rubbed it with his other arm, seeming somewhat anxious.

"Yea, nah. I'm not. But we're being held hostage and tortured for our powers. Seriously, who would be?" I let a chuckle escape. He couldn't be more right. A grin tugged at the corners of his lips in reply. Eventually, he turned around again, his face growing somber once more.

"So, are you ok?" He met my obnoxious, glowing eyes with protective, agitated ones. "You've only been here for half an hour, but you passed out. Do you remember anything?"

My memory filled with flashbacks to all the horrible things I'd thought and felt in that half hour. Things that were so horrible I didn't think I'd ever be able to get them out of my brain. I knew it was nothing compared to what he'd seen, I knew it was just a taste of what this cell had been designed for, but that didn't change the permanence of the mental scars it left.

I pulled my knees tighter into my chest and rested my arms on them, looking straight ahead. "Let's not talk about that," I said coldly, hoping he'd drop it. Miraculously, he did and muttered something about changing the topic. He paused for a second and then gave me a weird side glance.

"So... are you Latino?" He asked casually. I laughed, almost choking on the air.

"Me? Latino? Whatever gave you that idea?" I managed to squeeze out between fits of laughter. It was such a random question, seeming like an absolutely obscure thing to discuss after such a somber conversation.

"I don't know, you just seem... different, if that makes sense." He paused, drawing in a breath as if admitting something he didn't even want to admit to himself. "You're too pretty to be American. I assumed you must have Latino roots..." He trailed off, embarrassed.

"I'm second-generation Arabian and hideous," I said, my face growing red. "I'm from Tennessee though. I moved to Arizona to escape the stressful life of a hillbilly." He bellowed a genuine laugh, filling the room and echoing off the walls.

What the fuck, Vonda? I thought, mentally kicking myself. This shit doesn't happen. People don't compliment you, don't laugh at your jokes. This is a lie. It has to be.

My self-depreciation was getting the best of me and I felt myself seeping into the pain of the depression the room caused. I knew it wasn't really caused by the room but triggered by it. The cell seemed empty and dark and stressful enough to steal the joy out of any moment. How did he live like this?

"Hello?" I realized he was waving a hand in front of my now tear-stained face, trying to snap me back to reality. "You ok?"

"Yea, yea, I'm fine." I angrily wiped the tears out of my eyes and off my face. Showing weakness scared me more than anything.

"By the way, I don't actually know your name," Jonathan looked concerned but understood not to ask about the sudden burst of emotion. A smile weakly tugged at the corners of my lips.

"Vonda," I said, resting my head on his shoulder. "Vonda Vikes."

*********************************************************************

[A/N]

Sorry this is basically the same chapter as the last.

I think it was important to add both sides of view

Vote, comment, and lmk what you think so far!

-BloodCurler