Mindless; Chapter 9

When I open my eyes again, I'm- surprisingly- still in my room. My head is pounding, my face hurts, my hands hurt, everything hurts. I push the pain aside though. The lights are off, except for a lamp across the room. The darkness of my room makes me feel as if the darkness has escaped and is trying to suffocate me. I need to turn on the lights.

I begin to push myself up, wincing at the pain. A weight is suddenly pressed against my left shoulder, gently pushing me back. I look left. Eren's standing next to my bed, one arm outstretched, attempting to push me down.

"You need to rest," he states.

I finally make out his face in the gloom. A black bruise spreads across the left side of his jaw. "Your face. . ." I look to my right hand. That's why it hurts. I did that. I can't bring myself to look back at Eren.

"Ya. You've got a strong right hook," he says it offhandedly, almost like a compliment.

I fall back against my bed. I shut my eyes. Blackness crowds my mind. "Are you alright?"

"I've had worse. Are you okay?"

I don't say anything. After a few seconds, I hear Eren sigh.

I relapse back into sleep until I am awoken by a crash. I jerk upright, heart pounding. I stare at the source of the noise.

A little girl with curly brown hair stares down at the knocked-over lamp. "Oops."

Cynthia suddenly emerges from the door to the closet. "Amy! What on earth are you doing?"

The little girl, Amy, looks up at Cynthia. "Sorry, mom."

Cynthia sighs. "You're a bigger klutz than your father."

I notice that Eren isn't in the room. "Where's Eren?"

Cynthia looks towards me, surprised. "Gwen. . . He had to go take care of something. I could send for him if you want." Her eyes are watching me.

I nod. "I thought he was supposed to watch me?" I feel better, but my head is still pounding.

Cynthia waves her hand as if dismissing my statement. "Politics," she states as if that is a perfectly logical response. "You should lay back and take it easy. I'd imagine you're not entirely better."

I grimace. "I'll be fine."

Cynthia gives me a sharp look, which I look away from. I hear Cynthia saying something, but it's not to me, so I don't listen. I hear her walk off again.

My eyes wander across the far side of my room and fall upon the window. The blinds are drawn back, allowing light to pour into the room. Curiosity takes over and my feet lead me to the window.

Sadly, I don't have much of a view. Bars across the outside of my window mar the view I do have from of few stories up of the grounds outside, which are empty and barren except for the few scraggly trees and guards that pass by. In the distance is a wall. I'm in a compound. Trapped. Just like before. The darkness stirs my panic and unrest.

There's a tug on my right sleeve. I glance down. Amy is standing beside me. She holds out her hand.

"I'm Amy," she says matter of factually.

"Uh, I'm Gwen."

Amy's hand doesn't move. She continues to look at me. "You're supposed to shake my hand. That's what you do when you meet new people."

I tentatively reach out and take her outstretched hand. Her hand claims mine and gives it a firm shake before releasing it.

"Why are you wearing white?"

I look down at my outfit. For the first time, I wonder if it's the same one I was wearing before I came here. "Because. . . I have nothing else to wear."

"So, the stuff in your closet isn't yours?"

"The stuff in my closet?" I look to the door that leads into the closet. It had never occurred to me that there would actually be clothes in there.

Suddenly, Amy's grabbed my wrist and is all but dragging me to the closet. "Come on!"

As soon as we've reached the closet, she opens it and drags me in. A rainbow of colors floats around me. An army of clothes hangs, and a dresser promises more clothes hidden inside.

"This is mine?"

"It's in your room, isn't it?"

"Yes, but. . . ." I walk forward, dragging my hand along the row of clothes. I stop and pull one of the shirts off a hanger and hold it against myself. It appears to be my size.

"Try it on," Amy suggests.

"I thought I told you to lay down, and you to let her rest," Cynthia scolds us, walking into the closet.

"I feel fine," I state. "Is this all mine?" I ask her.

She nods. "Chancellors Langston's and Harvey's idea. A sort of gift/peace offering."

Ten minutes later, a misshapen pile of cloths has formed outside the closet. I had decided to take Amy's suggestion but hadn't stopped with the one shirt. I worked my way through the closet trying on everything, and with Amy's help, deciding if it was good or not.

I was surprised at how fast Amy had gotten me to open up to her. She was actually in charge of my trip through my closet. She would select something, and I would try it on. Cynthia sat by, watching our antics. Every now and then she would voice her disapproval of my refusal to rest but the slight up-turning of her mouth told me that she too was enjoying our antics.

Reaching over my shoulder, I zipped up the first dress that Amy had selected. Before opening the door, to show Amy, I paused to look at my reflection in the mirror on the back of the closet door. The dress was a dark blue that hugged my upper body but flourished out for the skirt which stopped right above my knees. The black trim accented the edges of the dress. I could faintly make out the embroidery that traced images across the blue in the same dark color.

I open the door and step out. Amy oohs, then tells me to spin, and I slowly turn around.

"No. Spin. Fast," Amy says.

I look at Cynthia, confused. She merely nods. So, I obey. Lifting up on the balls of my feet, I spin. The skirt of the dress billows out in a way that I find magical. I can't help it. I spin again. And again. And again. I can't stop myself. Watching the skirt billow around, waving as I spun was hypnotic. I can hear Cynthia laughing.

I suddenly lose my balance and fall down. The room is spinning. Amy is laughing. Cynthia walks over to me and helps me up.

"I feel tipsy," I tell her. I also feel happy and warm. I smile at her.

She laughs. "That's what happens when you spin until you drop. Just give it a minute, your balance will come back."

"I've never seen someone spin until they drop while wearing a dress before," Amy says.

"I couldn't help myself." I direct my gaze to Amy. "I've never worn a dress before," I tell her.

Absolute shock fills her face. "Never? Like never, ever, never?"

My smile flatters. "At least, I don't think so. A lot of my memory is missing." My smile completely falls away, and my eyes drop to the ground. The darkness comes crashing back. My happy feeling is gone.

The room falls silent.

"What on earth happened in here?" Eren's voice sounds from the doorway, confused and bewildered.

Surprised, I jump to my feet. I spin towards the door. "We're-" I freeze when I see that he's not alone. Ace is standing by his side.

"Going through Gwen's closet!" Amy finishes for me.

Shooting a glare at Ace, I look at Eren. "Why is he here?"

"Hello to you too," Ace says, but I ignore him.

Eren blinks twice then shakes his head. "Not my idea. I honestly don't know."

I cross my arms and look back at Ace.

"Amy," Cynthia says, "Come along, we'd best be heading out."

Amy begins to protest, but Cynthia cuts her off. "You can visit Gwen again tomorrow."

With that Cynthia leaves with a reluctant Amy in tow.

"Well?" I prompt Ace.

"I heard you were up and came to see how you were doing."

The darkness whispers that he's lying, and I have to agree with it. I simply raise an eyebrow. I refuse to say more than I need to him.

"Really."

I look at Eren. He shrugs. The darkness suggests violence or just refusing to let him stay. "I'm fine."

I'm not sure who looks more surprised between the two boys.

Ace's eyes actually flick towards Eren for a second. "I'm sorry?"

"You came to see how I was doing. I'm fine."

"I can see that," he replies, eyes flicking over me.

"Really?" Eren asks. I can hear the annoyance in his voice.

Ace looks at him. "What? If you're not going to say it, I will."

Eren opens his mouth to say something, but the door opens, and four armed guards walk in. I take a step back. I don't need the darkness to tell me that something is wrong.

"What is it?" Eren asks them.

"We were sent to escort her to a more secure location," one of them says, motioning to me with his gun.

"I wasn't told about this." Eren looks at Ace.

Ace shakes his head. "As far as I was concerned this is our most secure location."

"Let me check with my superiors," Eren orders, reaching for his radio.

A chorus of clicks causes him to freeze. Three guns are now armed and pointed at each of us. I feel my blood run cold, the darkness rising up to fight.

"That won't be necessary," says the one from before, the only one not training his gun on us, the one that must be their leader.

Eren's hand resumes moving, faster than before, reaching for his gun this time. There's a pop and Eren hits the ground. The guns are silenced.

I look at Eren laying on his back.

I realize that I'm not scared. The ice running through my blood is gone, replaced by the darkness.

I don't feel angry or surprised or pissed.

I feel calm.

My eyes slowly lift back to the men.

"You shouldn't have done that." My voice is a whisper.

One of the men takes a step back.

I smile.

My calm is melting.

The storm is coming.

The leader says something, but I don't hear it.

The darkness washes over me.

I don't fight it- I embrace it.