I wake up to bright light shining into my eyes. I flinch as my poor eyes try to adjust.
"Get that light out of my eyes!" I yell into the darkness.
All I see is the bright light in front of me being used like an interrogation light. The ones you always see on the television. I hear shuffling around me, but still can't make out any distinctive form to tell me who's in my presence.
I'm aware of cuffs around my wrists, I'm bound to a chair. My feet are also tied to the chair. It's uncomfortable and this makes me feel even more unnerved. I'm held hostage, by someone, yet everyone here seems to not be able to see me except the children. So who grabbed me?
I feel someone breathe into my neck and ear. Shivers run down my spine. Oh no. It's a psychotic serial killer. I'm sure. So this is how my life ends.
Then he speaks. His voice is deep and raspy, yet somehow sensual, sexy even.
"Who are you?"
"I'm, I'm Michelle." I struggle to get the words out, my mouth and throat dry.
"So Michelle, why are you here?"
"I honestly don't know where here is."
"Don't play games!" He shouts at me. I wince expecting to be hit or pushed or something. Nothing happens though.
"I...I'm not."
He grabs me around my throat and chokes me.
"I don't take kindly to liars."
"I'm not...lying." I struggle to get out and the air in my lungs are getting sparse.
He lets up, still holding me by the throat, but not choking me anymore. I take a couple of deep valuable breaths.
"Who sent you?"
"No one. I don't know how I got here. Where are we?"
"I'll ask the questions." Suddenly the light is turned off and the darkness surrounds me. I struggle to see anything. I hear a noise behind me. Then a hard bang like a door closing. I'm alone again.
YOU ARE READING
111 Crossbow Lane
Kinh dịMichelle moves to a quiet little town. Looking for some peace and quiet, some inspiration. A writer with writers block isn't going to sell any books. The failed relationship doesn't help either. So she came here, looking for a new beginning. But wha...
