Laney
Consciousness filtered in slowly.
My arms and legs were heavy with fatigue, and there was an ache in my abdomen. My mind was the same—even though I was awake and aware that my head hurt somewhere, sleep still lingered, making everything feel fuzzy and distant, as if there were a gray fog curling around me.
Fog…
Something about that word sparked something in my mind, but it was gone before I could grasp it. My memories were wrapped in cobwebs, and no matter how much I tried to tear them away, I couldn’t seem to land on any important information.
I recalled a forest.
Foggy air.
Running.
Darkness.
Then nothing.
I took a deep breath and sat up, wondering if my surroundings would help me remember what happened to me.
I was on a single bed on the side of a medium-sized room. No windows. Gray padded walls and ceiling. Two doors, one on the left and one on the right. A cream wingback chair sat in the corner a few feet from the bed, and a large TV screen hung on the opposite wall.
Swallowing hard, I focused on the strange foam padding on the walls and ceiling. Did I have some sort of breakdown? Was this a room in a mental health facility?
I decided to go and try the doors. When I stood up, pain shot through my left leg, sharpening my previously-hazy memories. I recalled running through the woods at RFA, wincing and trying not to scream as twigs and thorns sliced up my legs and ankles through my black leggings.
I glanced down. I was still wearing the same black leggings. Same gray sweater and white ankle socks too. The only things missing were my coat and shoes.
Whatever happened to me must’ve happened recently.
I gingerly peeled up one side of my leggings to check out the scratches on my skin. As I expected, they looked fresh. Bright pink with tiny streaks of dried blood.
The sight of the blood sparked the return of another memory, and then another.
As my mind grew clearer, fear rose in me, gripping my guts with icy fingers. I knew exactly what happened to me now.
I was hunted by a group of men and kidnapped.
Presumably, this strange room was my new cell.
On trembling legs, I stepped over to the door on the left side of the room and tried the handle. It swung open to reveal a windowless black marble-tiled bathroom with a toilet, a sink, and a cupboard for spare soap and towels.
It was small but clean and elegant. Not bad for a supposed prison cell.
I returned to the main room and tried the other door. It was locked from the outside. Unsurprising, as it was almost certainly the entrance to the room. Some silly, illogical part of me had hoped it was unlocked, though, and when I stepped outside, all of this would be revealed as a prank.
No.This is real.
Blinking rapidly, I went and sat back down on the narrow bed. The muscles in my chin trembled as I tried to hold back my terrified tears, but they burst out anyway, flooding my cheeks in warm rivulets.
I could be tortured here.
I could be raped here.
I could die here.
I lay down and curled up into a ball, scrunching my eyes shut and praying for more sleep. Maybe I’d get lucky. Maybe I’d wake in my bed at RFA soon, and it would turn out that the last month was just one big, awful nightmare.