Author: hidden-behind-the-stars PM
When scientists find a way to create a reaction in people's bodies that effectively makes it so that all their deepest, darkest secrets are revealed as tattoos on their skin, they open it to the public. One hundred years later, Lydia Tyler makes a mistake. On her skin is tattooed the name of her mother, who she believes she killed. "Your skin is your soul, Lydia."Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy/Romance - Chapters: 5 - Words: 4,777 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 5 - Updated: 02-02-13 - Published: 10-18-12 - id: 3066749
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Here is a little action :D I read your reviews and thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. I'll read your stuff ;D
Over the next few days, Jarrod helped me to recover most of my memories. Many, too many, doctors came in and out over the few days, taking notes and watching me. Analyzing my every move to make sure I'm still sane.
One day, a group of scientists came in. I'd stopped dressing right when they came in, my eyes narrowing at them. "Just continue what you were doing, Lydia." One of the men said as I watched them. I took a deep breath and pulled on my pants. I had no privacy and, no matter how akward it was, I had to get dressed in front of the scientists, even the men.
I began to put my thin tank top on and my hair got stuck on the strap. I flicked it back quickly, carelessly. I held my head to the side, keeping the long blonde hair away as I pulled my white blouse. I grabbed a brush on began to brush my hair, pulling on each little tangle. I knew I was being watched, I knew that every little movement would go in their logs.
I pulled on some thin crochet arm warmers. I began to put some braids into my hair, for something to do to attempt to forget the scientists staring at me. I closed my eyes tightly and twiddled my thumbs under the vanity, hoping they would leave out of boredom. What else could they write on?
I heard them shift on their feet after a while and then they all began to leave. Shuffling and then silence. I took a deep breath and spread into a smile. I grabbed a book from the shelf and began to read it to pass the time. At first, while in the room, I had been filled with memories. Now I had nothing to do and couldn't preoccupy myself within my own mind.
Then I heard a soft tapping on my door. I looked up, "Who is it?" I threw the book to the ground and sat up as the door opened. Jarrod came in, smiling softly and walking to the bed. "Hey beautiful."
"Jarrod... When do I get to go home?" I complained. Jarrod said we would share an apartment when we went home, in the North Quarter of town.
He laughed softly and stroked my hair from my face. His hand was gentle, and so warm. He smelled good. Not like an over powering scent of cologne like most men these days but instead just the scent of the soap he's been using over the past two weeks.
He softly pressed his lips to mine and kissed me, slowly at first, then deeper, deeper. His hand slipped to the back of my neck and I curled into him. He pushed me back on the bed and I watched him, smiling. "You can't do anything..."
"Not until we're home." He growled, his eyes pained as he watched me, wishing he could continue with the kiss. He stroked my hair and I heard a soft gasp come from between his lips and his eyes widen ever so slightly.
"Jarrod, what's wrong?" I murmured, sitting up and watching him, my brow furrowed. "Jarrod..."
He smiled slightly and stood up, "Nothing, dear. I just... I remembered I have to do something..." His smile widened and I knew it was fake. I grabbed his hand.
"Tell me what's wrong, Jarrod." I whispered, tightening my grip. He shook me off easily and turned, leaving quickly without another glance at me. I sat back, staring at the wall, dumbfounded. What, exactly, was the reason he left me in such a hurry? What was so important that he wouldn't stay with me?
I pouted and laid back on the bed, sighing softly and burrowing my face into the pillow. What was Jarrod's problem?
I woke up with a jolt when a hand touched my shoulder, "It'll be okay." A hard, gruff voice said from the darkness. It wasn't okay. His hands weren't gentle like all the scientists. His hands were mean, cold.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to see the details. The man was dressed all in black, which was unusual because now everyone almost always wears white. There isn't any colour in this world.
"Get out of bed." The man said. Behind him, coming into focus, were three other men. All very large, and all very scary.
I shook, "What's wrong? What's happening?"
The man took my shoulder roughly and pulled my head to the side, "There it is. The boy wasn't lying."
My eyes widened. That's what Jarrod saw. The tattoo! How could I have forgotten? "I didn't kill her!" I yelled, fighting their grips.
"I was hoping it wouldn't be this hard," The leader said sadly and held out his hand. One of his cronies gave him a long syringe. He pushed it into my shoulder. The whole world went blurry slowly and I felt them begin to push me out of the room.
"No, no..." I whispered softly. "It wasn't me!" I groaned.
"Lydia Tyler. Your are under arrest for murdering Beatrice Tyler."
Not very good but... Still! Review! What do you think about Lydia and her predicament?