Taken (SLOWLY RE-UPLOADING)

Busted Heart

          I woke up with my naked body, only covered by a small towel, shivering and aching. The freezing white tiled bathroom floor was now stained with a few splotches of my dried blood, and it honestly looked as though I was sitting in my own bloody murder scene.

          Fearing the pain I would feel if I tried to push myself up off of the bathroom floor, gripping my towel with one hand, I turned my body over to where I was lying on my stomach instead of my back. With my free hand, I used it to pull my body closer to the bathtub so that I could, eventually, pull myself up using it. Once I did, however, my head started spinning and the world around me went black as I sat up. Thankfully, my vision came back just a few seconds later with just a hint of dizziness that went away faster than I could call 911. As I slowly regained consciousness, I realized that I was not in the same downstairs bedroom that I was beaten and assaulted in. This one was cozier with its coffee brown colored walls and overall clean interior (other than the blood-stained tiles on the floor), and, oddly enough, I felt much safer and less susceptible to being violated as much as I was the night before.

          Unless it was still that same night, in which case I had no idea what day or what time it was.

          Eventually, I was able to stand up, but only with the help of leaning on the toilet and the bathroom counter. For some reason, I could only use one of my hands. The one gripping the towel hurt even as I gently held the soft, cotton fabric between my thumb and pointer finger. Upon further examination, I noticed it was covered in bruises and it kind of looked like it was bending in a way that hands do not usually bend. I had to look away to stop my pretty much empty stomach from vomiting the nothingness it contained.

          Regaining my composure, I leaned on the bathroom counter. Slowly, I faced the mirror, opening each eyelid one at a time in order to not make myself want to throw up even more than I already did. As I looked in the mirror, I instantly noticed my change in appearance from last night and that very moment; The towel seemed to cover a lot of the damage done to my abdomen and chest, but I could still see the disgusting, unwanted hickeys left along my collarbones and breasts. As I lifted the towel, my ribs had taken a lot of damage, also. I traced my finger gently along them, feeling how far the purple-green bruise went around my side, near my hip and lower back. I could barely even recognize myself with how disfigured I looked. It was as if I had literally walked off the set of The Walking Dead. Legit, I looked like a freaking walker made up by Gregory Nicotero himself. Honestly, I kind of scared myself a bit.

          I had to lean on my elbow with my good arm as I turned the sink on, letting the cool water run over my hand as I tried to wash the dried blood off of it. I left the water running, hoping it would get warm as I opened each of the drawers in search of a washcloth. Just as luck would have it, the third drawer was the jackpot that contained a few little white rags that matched the towel wrapped around me. Then, taking one of the washcloths I found, I slightly dampened it with the lukewarm water and lightly dabbed my face all over, trying not to cause myself any more pain than I was already enduring.

          As I searched for some Peroxide to douse over my cuts so that they could heal quickly, I heard a creak from the bathroom door; the sound of it opening, closing, and then the handle being locked being the only jarring sounds to cut in against the water running over my pruned fingers. I wasn't facing the same direction as the door and my knotted hair blocked my peripheral vision, so I couldn't exactly see who was coming in; then again, I was pretty nervous and didn't really want to see who was entering the room I was in anyways. I kept my eyes down on my fingers so that I would not have to see the face of whichever kidnapper was standing in the same vicinity as I was. My breathing hitched in my throat as his hands turned both knobs of the sink off from behind. I wanted to kick, scream, and run, but I knew there would have been no use since I had not even seen the entrance and exits to this crazy huge house I was trapped in.