Myheadfeelslikeit’s splitting open. I try to lift it but it’s dead weight.
What the fuck happened? Did I go home and have a drunken bender?
Pain pulses behind my eyes, thick and heavy. My mouth is so dry that my tongue’s sticking to the roof of my mouth. I let out a groan and try to roll over to my side so I can sit up. Water. I need water and something for this headache.
Something stops me. I can’t move. I pull my wrists but they burn. What the hell? My eyes snap open, the heaviness they once felt tossed to the side from the fear of what my situation may be.
Darkness is all I see before I slowly open my eyes and try to adjust my sight. The light is bright at first, and I have to squint my eyes closed and slowly open them again. As my vision comes into focus, I see a dull whitish-yellow ceiling above me. There’s multiple stains. Water perhaps. A leak at some point.
I pull on my arms again and I’m met with resistance. Tilting my head upward, I see them attached by rope to the bed posts. I try to kick my feet, but I’m met with the same resistance. Liftingmy head, I look down at my body seeing my feet are restrained in the same way as my hands.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My heart races, panic setting in deeper.
I lift my head, looking again. Taking stock of my appearance. My clothes are still on and they don’t appear to have been messed with. My pants are still zipped. Still buttoned. My shirt still on, it’s risen some, showing my bare stomach but my breasts are still covered.
My breathing turns shallow as the reality slams into me.
I’m tied to a bed.
How did I get here?
Drugged. The realization crawls through the fog in my head.
I was helping Abraham. Someone came up behind me, reeking of smoke. Their large arms wrapped around me. I called for help. Then Abraham got out of the car. But he didn’t save me. He said he was tired of waiting. The same thing that was on the note attached to the roses left on my car.
The ones I thought were from Josh. But they weren’t.
Then the prick in my neck and the darkness that overtook me.
A shaky breath escapes me. I need to escape. To get free. Find a phone and call for help.
I swallow hard and turn my head, trying to take in the room through the lingering haze.
It’s small. Bare. Plain off-white and yellowish walls that look like they haven’t been painted in decades. The air smells stale and smoky. No doubt why the walls are yellowing.
There’s just the bed I’m tied to, a couple of chairs to the side against the wall and a dresser that looks like it’s seen better days.
There’s only one window, and it’s been boarded up. Just the barest threads of light shines through the gaps in the wood. Light. It means it’s daytime. It was night when they took me. How much time has passed?
My chest tightens. Panic clawing at my throat.
“H-Hello?” My voice comes out hoarse. I swallow and try again, louder. “HELP!”
My scream echoes around the empty room, but no one answers back.
I suck in a breath and scream again, anyway.
“HELP! SOMEONE! ANYONE! HELP ME!” In frustration, I tug on the ropes restraining me, wincing as the material digs into my skin.
I hear something echoing, getting louder the closer it gets. Footsteps. Not just one set, by the sound of it there’s at least two.
The door swings open, and I freeze. The first man who walks in makes my stomach drop straight through the floor.
How could I have been so clueless?
He smiles at me like I’d actually welcome it. That same familiar smile I’ve seen a thousand times before. A smile that once felt safe.
