Taken by fate

Chpater 1

No sound.
I listened for a while before I even dared to open my eyes, scared that you would be there. Waiting.
Gray, rocky cement only inches from my face.
What was this place?
I had been lying on something soft, the cushion dipping in slightly curving to my side. Glancing up seeing that the ceiling was the same way.
Turning over to check out the rest of the space, realizing too soon that I should have moved a lot slower as a bout of motion sickness hit me hard. Laying back, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes.
Dizzy.
I hated this feeling. What I hated even worse was that even with my eyes closed I could still see the darkness spinning around along with the nausea that tagged along.
Bile rising in the back of my throat, eyeballs pulsing, brain throbbing, all I could do was just lay there and let the constant motion and unease pass. Every move only makes the feeling intensify, keeping as motionless as possible.
Why would people do this to themselves on purpose, I would never understand. All the students that would spin in their computer chairs as if their life depended on it not stopping until someone fell over. Who in their right mind would ever willingly let this happen, not me, no I definitely did not want this sick feeling now.
Though I knew exactly where that frame of thought came from, the origin of my hatred. Leave it to a bunch of kindergarten classmates to scar a little girl permanently by trapping me on a merry-go-round and spinning the stupid flat piece of wood around as fast as it would go as a game. Luckily the teacher had finally noticed and stopped the whole fiasco but not fast enough in my opinion. Remembering how I puked my guts out the moment I scurried off landing on the ground on all fours. All the kids had called me spiny guts for weeks after.
Squinting my eyelids, pushing the memory away, making sure that everything was still before I opened my eyes fully. Things were still blurry but I blamed that on the drugs.
What was on that rag?
Swallowing the acid that had rose into my mouth moving my head to the side slowly. My body felt heavy like I was under water in the deep end of a swimming pool, a low ringing sound playing through my ears.
There was light coming from a single bulb that only partially lit up the room. Grateful for that because the amount of fluorescence was already burning my pupils. In the dimness I could make out two buckets on the other side of the room, I had been right, the space was small. There was a set of stairs to the left.
Stairs that led to a door that most likely led straight to you.
Was this a basement?
Were you upstairs right now? How much longer until you came down? What have you done to me?
At that question I looked down checking myself over, startled to find that all my clothes were gone. Instead the only thing that covered my body was a baby pink silk nightgown that barely passed my hips. Black lace lined my breast and the hem, a small v cut out on my left hip revealing even more skin.
You had seen me naked. Scratch that you had removed my clothes and redressed me. Why?
That acknowledgement terrified me, though not as much as what you could have done when I was unconscious, even more so what you would do to me now that I was awake.
Nothing down there seemed to hurt as I ran my fingers over my private part. There would be at least some pain if anything had happened. Right? No blood on the sheets but that didn't mean anything either. I was missing my underwear. That meant that you...
No!
There would be pain, torn skin, something, talking myself down. I would know if something happened and yet I didn't. Not for sure.
Get out! Get out! Get out!
My conscience screamed at me, not wanting to make any noise to alert you that I was awake. Horrified at what you would do when you decided to come down.
Pressing my hands into the mattress, pushing myself up, freezing like a deer in headlights when I heard the sound of metal clinking.
Heart pounding as my breaths came out in short heavy bursts. Reaching up, begging for it not to be true.
Understanding why my shoulders felt so much heavier.
Metal, smooth, curved, wrapped around my entire throat. A chain leading from it to the ceiling where it was looped through a holder. Following the links until I saw the rest hanging on the wall next to the stairs.
This can't be happening. Hands shaking as my face grew hotter, eyes wide, my throat tightening as I held back the scream that wanted to escape my system.
You chained me up like I was a dog.
No! No! No! NO!
Come off, please come off. Yanking on the collar, running my hands around trying to find the hinge that kept the metal closed pressing my nails into the line. Pulling until my neck hurt knowing with a sinking feeling that the collar wasn't going to just magically pop off.
Slamming my hands into the mattress gripping the sheet scrunching the material between my knuckles.
Think. Forcing myself to take a breath. Planting my feet on the ground as the coldness seeped in.
There had to be another way.
Standing up carefully finding my balance as my legs wobbled under me. Taking one step at a time, walking at a snail's pace, out of breath before I even made it four steps.
All of my limbs felt like jello, struggling to keep myself upright. I couldn't afford to lose any time, just get to the wall.
If I could get to the wall then maybe I could find a way to unravel the chain, pull the length through the holder and carry it with me even use it as a weapon if I needed to.
A plan that was a long shot but I needed to believe that it would work. The metal biting into my skin, keeping me from moving a step further.
Five feet away.
Now that I was closer I could see what was stopping me. A lead pipe jutting out from the wall heading straight through one of the links making sure the chain stayed at a certain length. Of course you would do that, why did I think otherwise.
So many emotions filled me at once and I didn't have enough energy to sort through them.
Having no clue as to what to do, knowing that I was trapped. You saw to that. I wanted out, why did you have to take me, why me?
Tears bursted down my face as I finally allowed myself to cry, giving way to my weakness, letting myself drop to the ground.
My head yanked hard, upwards, as I stayed suspended mid air. The chain taught above as my hands automatically went to the collar that was choking me. The rest of my body spiraled out in spasms as I tried to find my footing but it felt as if the ground had turned into a wicked game of topsy turvy.
Scrambling around as my eyes began to bulge from their sockets, blood rushed to my face feeling as if I was on fire. The ringing in my ears had grown so loud that it was deafening, high pitched tune of someone twirling their fingers around the top of a wine glass.
Something cold brushing against my right hand bringing my focus onto the chain removing my death grip on the collar wrapping my fingers around and through the links pulling myself forwards.
One hand over the other until the pressure around my neck was gone, returning the oxygen back to my system. My tears turned into a wheezing coughing fit, the air burning as I greedily gasped the oxygen in. Stomach pressed onto the floor as I laid there, every muscle shaking uncontrollably.
Each second that passed only made me angrier.
Angry at this stupid collar.
Angry for being here.
Angry at you for taking me.
Then I got angry at myself for stepping out from under the street light. Maybe if I hadn't done that then none of this would have even happened.
Angry at the bus driver.
If only I had left my house later then I would have just gotten straight onto the bus.
If I would have fought harder I could have gotten away.
Did you have any marks from where I clawed you? Hoping that I hurt you even if it was only a little.
If the bus driver had actually been on time for once then they would have stopped this from happening.
They would have saved me.
I wouldn't be stuck in this basement right now, chained up waiting to die. Tears soaking the smooth cement below me turning the gray a few shades darker.
What is going to happen now?
Uncurling from myself. Refusing to accept the fact that I was trapped, I just couldn't let myself believe that.
Checking the lead pipe to see if it had budged at all seeing that it was still in place turning my head towards the door making sure that you hadn't decided to check in on me.
Unless you were watching me right now.
Scanning the walls and ceiling, studying the corners, seeing nothing but cement. No cameras at least as far as I could tell.
Grabbing hold of the chain to help me up, using it as my support as I headed directly under where it hung from the ceiling. The collar adjusted against my probably bruising neck each time I took a step sending jolts of pain down my back and into the base of my skull. Much worse was going to come, I wouldn't let the pain distract me now.
Taking in a few deep breaths before I brought my hands up as high as I could reach. The holder above me.
If I could break this part away then that would give me enough slack to undo the chain from the wall.
Skin turning ghost white as I gripped through the metal links jumping up bringing my knees to my chest letting all my weight, tensed muscles and all, dangle on the chain. At least it wasn't by my neck this time. Dropping down and trying again.
Out of breath, the only proof I had of doing anything at all. Searching the room for something I could use to pry one of the links open seeing the bed out of the corner of my eye actually taking time to look it over properly.
Wood, the whole frame was made of wood stained a dark brown. Built for the twin mattress that had a white bed sheet and pillow with no case sitting at the head.
Getting closer.
There were four posts, one at each corner. Not high enough to make it a poster bed, more like it was meant to be a bunk bed that was missing its upper piece.
Though that hadn't been what caught my attention.
Knowing that I didn't want to but needing to know the answer all the same inching myself towards the frame.
Noticing all the notches in each one, bits and pieces missing, out of place. Thick and curved in rounding out the sharp ninety degree angles all the way around. Each post was different, gulping down my panic.
I knew exactly what they were from and I wasn't the first.