Becoming: Part 2-Through the Flames
Alex awoke to the sound of people sprinting, panicked voices and mechanical beeps. He lifted his head and saw a group of people in white coats rush past his door and into the room across the hall from his. Although the men and women were crowding around the bed in the center of the room, Alex could make out a small figure. He saw its back arch up and its face contort in pain. His arms and legs were spread far apart from each other, presumably tied to the bed-rails, like Alex's.
The panic in the adjacent room carried on for several minutes. Small whimpers and the occasional yelp of pain over-powered the muffled, hurried talk of the people surrounding the bed. Then, all of a sudden, the whimpers stopped. Everyone became quiet and a loud monotone blaring came from a machine beside the bed. One of the men in white picked up a clipboard, scribbled on it and put it back on the table that he got it from. Then slowly, almost regretfully, the people in white filed out of the room and continued down the hall, the last one closing the door to the room behind himself.
After witnessing what had just happened, Alex was having trouble sleeping. To keep himself occupied, he tried to recount what had happened, but could not remember anything before he awoke in the darkness. He was at an utter and complete loss at what had happened to him. He didn't know what the darkness was, he had no idea where he was or how he got there. After a few minutes of attempting to contemplate his life, he gave up and went into a deep slumber.
His dreams consisted of random patterns and swirls that changed colors as they appeared and faded away. There were also a pair of dark hazel eyes that watched over Alex. They seemed to bore down into him, as if they could see his deepest, most hidden feelings, even if Alex himself didn't know what they were.
The next morning, Alex woke up on his own accord. Nothing urgent seemed to be happening at the moment so he enjoyed the peace and quiet. But, as he tried to relax, a small nagging feeling lodged deep in the back of his mind continued to distract him. After several minutes of trying to ignore it, Alex finally gave in. He opened his eyes and noticed that the room adjacent from his, the one where he witnessed the death of a young boy, the door was open and there was no body in the bed. This was to be expected, of course, but it still left Alex with a feeling of loneliness. That boy was the only other person, other than the staff, that he had seen from the time that he woke up here.
Alex's life continued on like this for two weeks. He was fed, and checked on by the staff. He asked them many questions; none of which they answered. His muscles grew sore from remaining in the same position for so long. He begged them to let him walk about, but they simply ignored him.
On the 22nd of August, some time near the middle of the night, Alex awoke to a shower of cold water being poured on top of him and a deafening blaring coming from multiple flashing red cubes that were attached to the wall.
FIRE!!
The thought was in his mind within the second. Ignited by the fear of being burned alive, a sudden burst of pure strength and an almost inhuman amount of energy allowed Alex to snap the chains that held him to his bed. The sudden strain on Alex's muscles, after weeks of inactivity, left him in severe pain. But, he knew that every second that he stayed in this place, the smaller his chance of getting out alive became. He crawled out of his bed, nearly losing his balance and slamming into the wall as he did so. Breathing heavily, he got up and steadied himself. He took one slow, steady step. Then he took another, and another. He slowly built up confidence in himself. About to exit his room, he hesitated. Turning around, he partially walked, partially stumbled back to the table by his bed. He snatched the paper that the doctor had been writing on during his check-ups. He stashed it in his pocket of his thin, pajamas, fire alarms blaring all the while. Only then did Alex stop to think about where he was and how he was going to get out. Shrugging to himself, he ran out the door. Slowly regaining strength in his legs, he broke into a sprint. He quickly reached the end of the hallway. By that time, his ears had become de-sensitized to the blaring and the hallway becoming flooded with several inches of water. Without thinking, he quickly took a right, the next left, and another one after that. He soon found the cafeteria and stopped. Looking around, Alex picked up a chair, brought it over a large window, grasped it firmly, and swung. It took several hits for the chair to break through the glass and Alex was severely winded after the exercise. There were still jagged pieces around the edges, but it was big enough for Alex to squeeze through. He backed up and began to sprint at it, he jumped through the window, fell through the air, and landed surprisingly softly on the grass, but not soft enough. The strain of his muscles and the added stress of jumping from a second story window to escape a fire over powered him and he blacked out.
After several hours, Alex awoke, once again with a major headache. He was free, but he had no idea where he was. All he saw was smoke still pillowing out of the building that he had just escaped, some orange flickers and spurts of flame that still existed inside the building, and a road, one that stretched beyond the horizon. He looked behind himself, looked ahead, and started to walk.