“This is so boring,” Sarah groaned for the umpteenth time in the room they were held up in. “Feels like I’m grounded,” she huffed as she sat back down on a chair, groaning.
Each one agreed. The room was getting dimmer as the candles began to dwindle by each passing minute. Lorella found the odd candle lying around, but the wicks were so low into the wax of the candle, that they could not be lit. They agreed that when the candles died, they would rest up and sleep the hours away until they heard a knock on the door, telling them that everything was all right.
Simon sat away from the group. He could not speak to Sarah; bitterness was still in him for what she had done. He could never forget her hitting him the way that she had. He was embarrassed that a girl had not only punched him, but had blackened him too. And then there was Robert. How he wished he could put the young warrior to sleep for good, as he watched the young boy woo Alison with his calmness and affectionate ways that Alison seemed to relish in. Lorella was even beginning to annoy him, her unwise ways of their planet annoyed him greatly as any phase that was spoken had to be broken up for her to understand, the others did not seem to mind doing this, but Simon found it irritating. And as beautiful as she was on the eyes, he could never imagine having to put up with her for the rest of his life.
He lay on the four-poster bed, closing his eyes and wishing that it would all be over and that he could return home. Home? He thought miserably, as he saw his mother and father floating around in his mind. The alcoholic foul-mouthed man he called dad, and the dim witted, scared mouse human, called mum. Why had he been blessed with parents like this? A man who could drink a bar dry and could slur his way through a karaoke night at the local, and yet his mum was able to put up with the disgusting beast who should never have been born, he thought as he pictured his father’s stature with repulsion.
Where had he been taken? He smiled to himself, Carla taking him away like that, sending him to a place that hopefully breathed no life for him, making him scared out of his wits, making him suffer for all the ill he had done, Simon sighed. He quickly opened his eyes, when Sarah stood over him like a doctor beginning to operate on a patient.
“We need to talk,” Sarah said almost whispering in embarrassment.
Simon shrugged and sat up, leaning on the numerous pillows on the oversized bed. Sarah sat next to him, avoiding eye contact.
The silence was hard, unbearable even, as Sarah continued to breathe heavily, sighing and deep breathing once more. Simon sighed too, unsure what she wanted, not asking why — not wanting to.
“Look, what I did—” Sarah began quietly. “I didn’t mean it to happen. Just that I have a bad case of getting short tempered. Told I will grow out of it when I have kids, but I ain’t havin’ any, so I don’t think it will stop,” Sarah said thoughtfully, as Simon looked at her confused....