He nods and closes his eyes. It doesn't take much, if any, time to feel ready to leave.
Even if he knows by now you never really leave the FAYZ. You never really leave fear behind you.
"I want to wake up now," he says, "I want to wake up now."
He opens his eyes to the same dirt, same bucket of stained clothes and foul-smelling water, same recycled air, same cramping in his stomach, same tiredness in his bones.
He should have known it was too good to be true. His hands are shaking. Tears aren't unfamiliar to anyone in the FAYZ, so he doesn't even bother to try hiding the fact that he's crying from anyone who might stumble onto this pathetic scene.
Re: Ack, phonetags.
Even if he knows by now you never really leave the FAYZ. You never really leave fear behind you.
"I want to wake up now," he says, "I want to wake up now."
He opens his eyes to the same dirt, same bucket of stained clothes and foul-smelling water, same recycled air, same cramping in his stomach, same tiredness in his bones.
He should have known it was too good to be true. His hands are shaking. Tears aren't unfamiliar to anyone in the FAYZ, so he doesn't even bother to try hiding the fact that he's crying from anyone who might stumble onto this pathetic scene.
And then he hears engines.