The Uprising

CHAPTER 3

A rough hand brushes against my cheeks, forcing me out of a dream where I was a princess in a shimmering castle, surrounded by handsome knights. The silk-like sheets slip through my fingers as I try to snuggle deeper into the softness of the bed, desperately wanting to return to that fantasy world.  But reality slams into me with the force of a tidal wave.

My mind jolts awake, and the first thing I realize is the doctor in the room, her face a mixture of concern and relief.  Then comes the realization that I'm not in the hospital anymore. My head whips around, taking in the unfamiliar space. There are no windows, just a door that seems to open from the outside. In the corner, I spot my blue backpack, a familiar comfort in this strange place.

"Miss Wilson," the doctor says, her voice gentle but laced with urgency.

"Where am I?!" I yell, throwing off the sheets and scrambling towards the door.  My fingers claw at the handle, but it's locked. Panic surges through me. I bang my fist against the wood, screaming for someone to let me out.

The doctor tries to calm me, but my fear is a wild beast, impossible to tame. "Please, Jemima, we don't have much time. You need to listen to me or we both could die."

Her words finally pierce through my fear, forcing me to stop and face her. Confusion swirls in my mind. Why am I here? How did I even get here? Was I kidnapped? My thoughts race, painting horrifying scenarios –  rape, torture, human trafficking.

"What are you talking about? Open this door and let me out!" I demand, my voice trembling.

"Look, they have my nephew. I didn't mean to drug you. They made me do it. You have to listen to me before he gets back."

"What do you mean?"  I feel like I'm falling into a dizzying abyss of unanswered questions.

My words are cut short by the sound of the door opening.  A tall, masculine figure steps in, his presence filling the room with a chilling intensity.  He's wearing a red hoodie, pulled low, and a black mask covers the lower half of his face.  His eyes, the only part of him visible, are piercing, like a predator watching its prey.

"Is she okay?" he asks the doctor, his voice deep and gravelly.

"Yes, she's fine. I need to see my nephew, please."

"You will get to see him soon," he replies firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Then, he turns to me. "How are you feeling?"

How am I feeling? I'm confused, terrified, and a strange sense of vulnerability is creeping into my bones.

"Who are you?! What am I doing here?!" I demand, my voice barely a whisper.

"She looks okay. You may leave," he says to the doctor, his voice dismissive. Kayla exits without another word.  I wish she would stay, the presence of another person, even a stranger, offering a sliver of comfort.  Now, I'm alone with this masked figure.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what's going through your head."  His words are a hollow reassurance, ringing with an almost mocking sincerity.

"Says the person who had me drugged!" I retort, my anger bubbling to the surface.  "Then you kidnapped me. Do you seriously expect me to believe you won't hurt me?"

"Yes, because if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it at the school!"

He has a point, I have to admit. But trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered. He takes a step towards me, and I scramble back, pressing myself against the wall, a caged animal desperate for escape.

"Don't come near me," I warn him, my voice trembling.

"Look, I didn't mean to take you by force. I just didn't see any other way."

"Why me! I'm not worth anything. I promise you won't get a dime if you keep me here. Just let me go."

"You're worth a lot to the right people," he says, his gaze lingering on me.  A new level of fear crawls up my spine.

"Are you going to sell me?!" I whisper, my voice laced with fear and desperation.

"What?" He sounds surprised by my accusation.

"Help! Help! Somebody help me!" I snatch a pillow from the bed and hurl it at his head, hoping to buy myself some time.  The pillow connects with a thud, but he only hunches over, his masked face contorting in pain. I grab the other pillow, ready to launch another attack.

"Okay, that's annoying. Don't do that," he says, his voice tight with irritation.  I hesitate, but he's already moving towards me, his shadow looming large over my fear. "Stop!"

Why should I listen to him? He kidnapped me, and now he's talking about selling me?  I raise the pillow, ready to strike again.  But then, he catches it, rips it in half, and throws the pieces aside with a disdainful flick of his wrist.

Did he just rip a pillow in half? He's definitely not messing around. If he could do that to a pillow, I shudder to think what he might do to me.

"I said stop!" He snaps, his voice laced with warning.

"You said you were going to sell me."

"Who wants to sell you? Huh? Look at you. You're all skin and bones. Who would even buy you?!"

Ouch.  His words are brutal, cutting through my already bruised self-esteem.

"I have assets," I point out weakly, clutching my chest, even though I know it's completely flat.  His eyes meet mine, and something flickers in them, a mixture of amusement and... something else.

"Nobody cares about your non-existent assets. Stop being dramatic."

"If you're not going to rape me or sell me to some foreign country, then what am I doing here?"

"You're here for your protection."

"From what exactly?"

"Details aren't important. Just stay here for a few hours. If all goes well, you can go home."

"What do you mean details aren't important? You just kidnapped me! And what's up with the mask? It's giving me creepy Batman vibes!"

He sighs, a weary sound that hints at a hidden struggle.  "It seems I have to drug you again. You talk too much."

"You talk too little. By the way, who are you?"

"Daniel."

"You saved me?" I question, remembering the near-death experience I had just hours ago.

"And I still haven't heard a thank you for that," he says, a slight hint of humor in his voice.

"Seeing that you kidnapped me, it's hard to be thankful at the moment." 

He shrugs off my comment and heads for the door, leaving it open. "Are you coming, Jemima?" He calls from the doorway, and my legs automatically start moving, drawn by a strange mix of fear and a strange sense of curiosity.