02-28-2011, 06:08 AM
As she was set behind the dumpster, Jill tried to follow what happened. From there on everything was a blur. Blips of vision and hearing faded in and out as things happened around her. Ty's words as he mentioned a friend. Someone else's voice. A new setting. Someone's table. Stinging of someone messing with her wound. Jill's cry as it was stitched. Darkness.
Things slowly faded into unconsciousness. The blonde heard voices as she drifted off, both kind and gruff. The older man's tone reminded her of her father . . . and her scrambled thoughts pieced together that she was at home for a while. Sleep.
When Jill's eyes fluttered open, she couldn't focus on anything. It wasn't the best situation to find yourself in a place you'd been sleeping - and finding that it wasn't the home you believed it to be. The blonde slowly sat up - with a twinge of pain - and looked around her. As of yet, her jeans were half-coated in a stiff layer of dry blood and her ripped (but still whole) t-shirt sported a lovely amount of dark staining as well. With a frown, Jill examined her new stitches and patched wounds. If I'm not home . . . then where am I?
Slipping out of the room shakily, Jill began to look around. She didn't call out - her previous trauma made her act more silently than she'd ever considered before. It wasn't long before she found human life again. Pausing to make sure that they acted normal (apparently the disease-ridden freaks she'd met were still on her mind), Jill slowly cleared her throat. "Excuse me?" Her gaze lingered on the older man. This must have been the one that helped her - the stranger's friend. "Were you the one who did this?" Pointing to her side, the woman frowned a bit. This has got to be the strangest thing that has ever happened to me.
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