My body feels heavy and sluggish like it has never been, my neck stiff and my mind drowsy with the type of deep sleep you feel the need to when sick or injured, when your body did not ask but rather demanded you to rest.
And yet I can't sit still.
With my back rigid from the cold floor I try to move slowly, making the outer black robe that is covering me to slide down, and as if some chemical has fallen on my eyes it takes some time before I can keep them open without a burning sensation to sprite to life when contact with the light, forcing me to close them down again, my neck completely inflexible in place and hurting greatly in a specific spot, which my hands soon discovered to be bandage up.
"I… what?" Still confused and unsure, hurt and alone, it takes some time for me to realize two things in sequence.
The first one is that Ethan is nowhere to be found in that small shabby place, the only comfort being the makeshift bed I was at and the small fire to the side.
