Tethered

Chapter One

 The Will is there...sometimes we just choose not to use it

1

Sarah sat up abruptly in the tub. She made a rough, sickly sound as she tried to breath. She gasped for air, her eyes wide and terrified. Water trickled down her face. An incomprehensive burst of pain surged throughout her body. She was in the tub, with her head underwater. She couldn't find any rational explanation as to why or how she was in the tub, or how she even got there. Her red-rimmed eyes darted around the dimly lit room. And she spotted it. The footprints—the bloody footprints. Her heart leapt.

"Those aren't mine!" She squinted.

Her chest grew so tight it became difficult to breath. Her eyes watered. Pain shot from the sides of her skull. She cringed, and looked down. Then, she screamed. The water in the tub was red—red with blood. Adrenaline bursts through her veins, waves of acid welled up from her stomach, forming a tight nauseating feeling.

Trembling, and biting on her lower lip to avoid the slightest whimper from escaping her mouth, Sarah crawled out of the tub. Creeping on all fours, she slowly made her way to the door.

"You don't deserve it, either." A small voice, barely above a whisper spoke behind her. Sarah froze, her eyes growing impossibly wide. Her mouth gaped, uncertain whether to breath or scream. One thing was certain, she wasn't turning around. She feared what she could see.

Keep crawling, Sarah, she told herself.

2

But somehow, her body refused to move. She remained glued to the spot, on her hands and knees. The sides of her head pounded mercilessly as if the brain was forcefully requesting for a shutdown mode. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Not again, please, she thought. I can't continue like this.

"And your wrists?" The small voice spoke again. Sarah's eyes immediately flew to her hands. She let out a small yelp of horror. She averted her eyes from her wrists in an instant and glared down. Blood. Trails of blood tainted the white tiled floor. Her blood. She knelt down, horrified, trying to figure out the madness around her. Her heart pounded roughly in her chest, rhyming along with the crazy throbbing in her temples. Her breathing came out in ragged, short gaps that made it almost impossible to breath.

"There's no escape", the voice said again. Sarah's expression stretched into a mask of terror. She wasn't expecting those words—not again. She'd been hearing these exact words for a very long time now.

"P-please", Sarah whispered, her voice shaking. More tears streamed her cheeks. She felt a horrible combination of fright, and pain. She glared at the silver doorknob. She could make it. She could make it to the door and escape this room.

Without wasting a moment's time, Sarah leapt to her feet, grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. She pushed the door open and was met with a wall of blazing bright light. Shielding her eyes, she staggered back and stumbled to the floor.

Then everything went black.

3

Sarah's eyes flew open. She sat up in a fright and glared at her wrists. The bandages were there, clean and untouched. Her eyes wildly darted around the room. There was nothing except a white candle that casted a soothing orange light. The window was opened, blowing the silky white curtains. She scowled at the clock: 6:45PM. She sighed and tried to relax a bit.

It was only a dream, she reassured herself. Though it felt so real. It was only a dream. She held her head in her hands, trying her best to calm down.

"I can't take this anymore", she said to herself with a tear-clotted voice. "I'm tired. This is too much."

As Sarah lifting her head, she saw something move from the corner of her eyes. Alarmed, she searched for the movement. Nothing. She breathed. Unexpectedly, the door to her bedroom swung agape with a powerful burst. Before she knew what was happening, she was snatched out of bed, and being dragged across the wooden floor. She screamed, and struggled to free herself. But the grasp around her aching wrist was too tight.

A bolt of immeasurable fear kicked in when she realized she couldn't see the man's face. There was nothing to see. The man's face was somehow shadowy and blurry, and she couldn't make out the features.

"Help!" Sarah screamed; her eyes wet and hazy. "Let me go!"

The man dragged her down the stairs and out the front door. Clutching the threshold of the door with her free hand, Sarah kicked and screamed trying to free herself from the man's grasp, but the man was too strong to be match her strength.

"Help!" Sarah screamed again. "Somebody, help!" In a blink of an eye, the man seized Sarah around the neck, lifted her off the ground and slammed her head on the wall. Sarah's legs gave way, and her body slammed hard on the front porch.

Sarah couldn't scream. A terrible ringing deafened her ears, and her head throbbed uncontrollably. She could only tag helplessly along as the man dragged her on her wobbly feet. He abruptly stopped, steadied Sarah to her feet and pushed her in the street. Sarah landed badly on her ankle. She let out a strangled yelp as pain shot up her leg. She couldn't understand the fast-paced scene. When she looked in the direction of the man—he was gone. Her brows furrowed. She stared, too shocked to do anything.

And that's when she heard the horns—loud and piercing in her ears. She flinched. A bright light flashed in her face, blinding her vision. She heard the screeching of tires across the gravel road, and the horns louder than before. Terror sucked the very breath from her lungs when things came into sharper focus. She tensed up and could only watch in shock as the speeding truck neared her.