Just before Swapna could speak, Elizabeth felt herself being harshly jerked back into dark consciousness. She was awake, but she refused to open her eyes. It was all a dream, she tried to tell herself. None of this happened, nothing happened, you're at home and you just had a crazy dream.
But if it was a dream, she asked herself, why do I remember it all so vividly? She tried to move her arms to stretch, but cold metal held them in place. Her legs refused to budge as well, and she was again aware of the band on her forehead. That's why I remember it so vividly: because it was all real, she admitted to herself sadly.
Her eyes were still closed, but she could tell someone was watching her. Did she dare a peek? Her eyelids twitched with indecision.
"Open your eyes Elizabeth, I know you're awake." It was Jason. Reluctantly Elizabeth did as she was told. It took a minute for everything to come into focus, but she would've preferred not to see anything. Jason was standing just over her right shoulder, peering down at her. He kept a straight face, but the tightness of his lips and the tension in his jaw immediately told Elizabeth that he was far from pleased. But the vehement fire in his eyes was the most chilling; Elizabeth thought that if he wasn't wearing his glasses, she would've been vaporized by now. Although, she wasn't sure if he was near-sighted of far-sighted. She swallowed nervously, praying furiously that his eyes were hyperopic.
He folded his arms, drumming his fingers expectantly on his left forearm. "Would you care to explain," he began, his voice forcedly calm, "what the hell you're playing at?"
Elizabeth gulped again. "I'm guessing you're not going to like anything I try to tell you?" she chanced.
His eyes narrowed. He replied in a rather ominously even tone, "It doesn't take a genius to figure that out, Ms. Quinn."