Uncontrollable

Chapter Nine

As my eyes slowly opened and I regained consciousness, I looked around me.

I was sitting on a hard metallic table that reeked of cleaning solution. All around me was white.

"Am I in heaven?" I wondered aloud. There was no way that I got out of that place alive. It just wasn't possible.

"He's awake! He's awake! Someone get in there," a woman's voice exclaimed.

"I can hear you," I yelled back.

A few seconds later, a familiar face burst into the room.

"Grey?" I said aloud, confused. What was going on? Why was I isolated in a room, and why was Grey in the same place as me?

"Yes, Ryder, it is me. I promise you I'll explain everything to you soon enough, but for now, I need you to answer a few questions."

"Alright," I answered.

When he reacted to my answer with silence, I said, "Are you going to ask them or am I supposed to somehow read your mind?"

"I'm going to ask them, Ryder. Don't be stupid. Just give me a few seconds," he responded, his face tinting red with anger.

"Whatever you need," I said, putting up my hands in surrender.

Moments, later, he asked the first one.

"When did you first find out about magic?"

"When I was eight years old," I answered softly. My entire being was hoping desperately that he would not ask how I found out about it. Seconds after, he asked just that question.

"So how did you find out that you had magical abilities?"

"Why does it matter?" I shot back, reluctant to tell the story of how I found out. What would happen if I were to tell him? Since I didn't know the answer, I decided I would do everything in my power not to answer the question.

"It's important, Ryder. I promise you it is," Grey answered a stone serious look took over his face.

"It can't be that important," I said.

"Why are you so disinclined to answer this question?" Grey asked. By his facial expression, I could tell he was trying hard to keep his voice calm and his personality collected.

"I just am! Is that a problem?" I exclaimed.

"Stupid, ignorant, stubborn teenagers," Grey muttered under his breath.

"I heard that!" I exclaimed, upset by his remark.

"I don't care, Ryder. You need to answer this question. It's important!" Grey exclaimed, having no patience for my teenage ways. The urgency in his voice told me this was more important than I thought.

Reluctantly, I decided I'd tell him. I took a shaky breath before beginning the story.

"I was eight years old. My mom had left me home alone for the first time ever. Of course, that was the night that a man came. I'm not sure whether or not he was there to rob my house, or to kidnap me, but he did the latter. I was scared out of my mind and would have done anything to get home and be safe. He threw me in a run down, blue Volvo, and drove me to an empty street. He parked his car right outside of a tall building, and then walked me to the end of the road," I said, recounting the memory.

"Now was this an alleyway, or a dead end?" Grey asked.

"It was an alleyway. There was a 'wall' that was made out of logs kind of at the end of it," I answered.

"Any other questions or can I continue on with the story?" While I was waiting for Grey's answer I looked around me. There was nothing else in this room except squeaky white surfaces all over. I felt like just sitting here on the metallic table, I was contaminating the room.