A/N: CHAPTER SIX!

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Chapter Six:

Sitting on my bed, I chewed at my nails. The irritating clock that laid in front of my bed ticked away with an awful screeching noise.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The clock chimed in time with my heart. I closed my eyes, cringing in pain as the sound consumed me. Taking a mind of its own in my body. My clothes clung to me like a second skin, sweat pooling around my forehead that slowly cascaded down my face.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Opening my eyes I tried focusing on the clock, I tried reading the time. But try was all I did. Swirling numbers, the minute hand, hour hand, all blurring into one as my world spun in circles. My body is in sync with the clock, heartbeat in time with its chimes.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

I pulled at my now short sleeve shirt, having swapped it for another one I had in my bag. But even then, it did no justice. Even the frosty cold of the night did nothing from my seat on the bed with no blanket draped across me. Swiping a hand across my forehead, sweat spread onto the back of my hand.

Tick.

I grabbed a canteen from my bag.

Tock.

I took a swig of water.

Tick.

"Bryce?"

Tock.

I glanced at Carter. He sat on his bed and my eyes widened in surprise, my heart rate beginning to quicken. A flush rose on my cheeks, heat burning through my body, heating just a fraction more for a moment before I forced myself to calm down. Shaking my head from the fever that was now making me irrational.

It took all my concentration to keep my gaze diverted from his shirtless chest and keep my stare on his face. He stared at me in confusion but I focused on not looking down. At his hard chest, the skin smoothed and surprisingly tanned. His muscles were taut and had patches of burns visible through the gleam of sweat coating his chest. The flush on my face grew hotter when I suddenly heard coughing. "Bryce?"

Hastily, I glanced up to his face and when I saw the smirk dancing on his twitching lips, green eyes lit with amusement, I felt flustered realising he caught me staring.

"Bryce," he teased and I realised I still had not replied. "Yes?" I asked breathlessly.

His smirk deepened as a dimple formed on his cheek. He glanced down at himself in confusion, staring at his hard, defined chest before trailing his eyes to mine.

"Is there something on my chest?" He jested.

I gave him a deadpan glance, narrowing my eyes at him, reluctantly replying, "Nothing."

"So that's the problem?" He smirked.

Looking away I flushed as he chuckled and looked back at the clock that would not silence. The air was thick. Suffocating. Its chimes ticked away through the night as the sweating gradually grew worse, my breathing growing heavier. 

Everything consumed me. 

The heat. The small movements that caused my head to ache. The sweat that pooled around me. 

It all overwhelmed me.

"How long is this going to last?"

It took a lot of effort to turn back to Carter as the clock continued to make its dreary noise.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

"If we are lucky, a few hours."

He frowned. "A few hours?"

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head and got up from the bed and stood on unsteady, shaky feet. "And it hasn't even started yet."

"What do you mean it hasn't started?"

He stared at me with confusion and I leaned over putting my shoes on. My sweat soaked knotted hair fell into my face. Grabbing a hair tie I gathered the hair in my hands and tied it back. Grabbing my backpack, I looked up to him. "The fever is just the beginning symptoms, it's when the fever begins to rise, which will be soon, that we really will feel the effects of the Bremeliar."

He nodded as he seemed to think about something before shaking his head with a grimace, "Great!" Sarcasm drooled from his mouth before he paused for a moment. 

Meeting my eyes, he glanced towards the backpack I flung over my back. "Where are you going?"

"To try and break this fever."

. . .

The hallway was mostly quiet, with only one or two people returning from the communal bathrooms. My eyes diverted and only stared at the ground not wanting to draw any attention to myself.

I assumed that most people were in their rooms trying to fight off the effects of the beginning and oncoming fever. Especially considering that there wasn't a bustle of activity and not much noise was heard.

Considering Carter and I did not eat too much food and stopped early on, we were right now facing only minor effects of a lessened deadly plant. Our effects would be nothing compared to what everyone else who ate a lot more would be going through.

A shiver racked through my body at the thought of people suffering just like I knew they would. I was much too familiar with the effects of Bremeliar.

When I was younger, Bremeliar was a very common plant that grew on the farm. My mother back then loved to experiment with the plants and was obsessed with discovering new spices. She made it her mission to find a spice to take away the blandness of the spoiled crops and rotten abundance of potatoes that we constantly ate. And when she came across Bremeliar, she was astounded at its sweet taste and rich scent.

So, when she used it during our dinner that night. We enjoyed the meal thoroughly. For the first time in years since the Great War had begun, we were eating a delicious and enjoyable meal. Bremeliar tasted so sweet that it disguised the rot within the crops and created an addicting feeling that created a salivating feeling within me. 

Within all of us.

But it was later that night when we woke up all broken out in fevers and our stomachs tearing apart from the inside, that we were left with having to suffer and fight for our lives. That night, we sacrificed most of our limited water supply, drinking it to stay hydrated as we vomited violently.

The most dangerous part about the plant was the vicious vomiting and excretion it caused. However, not too many people can make it through that stage, and the ones who do, suffer afterwards not realising that they needed to desperately replenish their missing fluids.

That night was engraved in my brain as a constant memory and reminder of just how horrifying it was. For a long time that night I truly believed that I was going to die.

A slam of a door in front of me jolted me back into the present when someone entered their room. My heart beat raced for a moment, terrified from the sound. Shaking my head, I reached the end of the hallway and veered to the right where a ladies sign was held. Stepping in, I was instantly hit with thick hot moisture in the air as if the showers were left on steaming for a long time.

Following the long, curving hallway, I stopped in my tracks and stared in awe at the sight before.

Big was not even the right word to describe it.

It was enormous!

On the left side there was a row of pink lockers seeming to be as if there were just enough for everyone on this floor. The lockers were averaged height, reaching towards the low hung ceiling in its small section that stood separate from the rest of the bathroom.

Each locker was labelled with room numbers and at the end there was a small black box. Curious, I walked towards it and found small rectangular black labels all aligned. Slowly, I grazed through them, reading multiple different names, obviously the other girls who were staying on this floor.

I paused when I found mine and smiled slightly at the golden inscription within the black metal strip. Bryce Henson. Grabbing the key for locker 02 alongside it, I made my way to the second locker. Staring at the locker before me, I noticed a metal barring to help support the label, and slipped the piece of metal onto its hangers before opening the lock with its key.

A lump formed in my throat. Glancing inside, I saw its generous space with enough room to store spare clothes, and the white fluffy towel that sat on the top shelf. Reaching a hand out, the new fluffy towel brushed delicately, softly against my hand. Gripping the soft texture I pulled it out.

This is the first towel I've touched.

I smiled down at it with tears threatening to break free.

I have never used a towel before.

Slamming the locker closed, I tucked the key into my pocket with the card that was used to open my room door. Turning around, I faced the rest of the bathroom to find it split into two sections. To my left was an extension of multiple cubicles aligned next to each other and pearly white sinks just beyond them. No doubt for toilets I assumed and in front of me was what seemed to be showers.

Following the path down to the showers I struggled with every step. My gaze grew hazy, head almost foggy with the heat pulsing through me from the fever. I made my way to the showers. Multiple cubicles aligned each other and I cringed hearing my shoes sloshing through the wet cream tiled floor making it apparent that people had already come to shower earlier. But at the silence in the room, minus my loud footsteps, it was obvious no one was in here.

The air felt thicker and I struggled to breathe before entering a shower stall at random. I needed to help cool this fever as soon as possible and make it back to the room before I could not move anymore.

Closing the door behind me, I placed a clean change of clothes on the bench and undressed quickly, turning the shower on cold. I stared in wonder as the water poured from the shower head, the water never ending as it spilled fresh clean water. I had not had a proper shower in years. Sniffing myself I gagged at the putrid scent and could practically feel the layer of dirt that has coated me for years.

Grabbing a bar of soap on the side I cleaned up as well as having the coldest shower to help cool the fever.

But there was nothing within me that could sullen from having the opportunity to clean off the dirt that has clung to me for years.