Astray

03 / Refreshed

By the time Emerson could feel her fingers and toes again, she had run out of tears. She was furious at having been drugged, once again, into a state of calm, but she found herself able to think clearer than earlier, no longer fueled by pure adrenaline. She was still alive.

Based on the skylight in the ceiling, it was still daytime, but twinges of purple and pink hinted at an approaching sunset... or was it sunrise? She had never felt so discombobulated in her life.

Emerson thought about the information Felix had given her. She needed to remember everything he said, not only in order to escape, but also to give to the police once she was free. Felix's warning about owning a pharmaceutical company had far-from extinguished her motivation to escape; instead, it had made it clear that the way she escaped the lunatic had to be carefully planned and executed. She couldn't do anything if she was unconscious, that much was obvious.

She thought about her parents. She didn't know how long it had been since she was taken from the library; if only a few hours had passed, they surely wouldn't think anything of it. In fact, a few days could go by without a word from Emerson and she was fairly confident her parents wouldn't bat an eye. But when would they call the police and report their daughter missing? She was an adult, as it was, living on her own and fighting her own battles. Emerson's heart ached as she lay there, longing for the very people she had been pushing away for years.

It wasn't worth it to mope. That's not your style, Emerson told herself. Get your shit together, and get away from this psycho.

She sat up. Or at least, attempted to, but even propping herself up to a sitting position took a great deal of effort, and her arms shook violently for minutes after she was upright. The godforsaken handcuffs remained tight around her wrists.

As she scooted her legs up and attempted to move them over the side of the bed, a terrible realization dawned on Emerson.

There was something wet underneath her; something sticking to her legs.

Emerson's heart sank to her stomach like a stone and she gasped aloud as she understood. Whether it was from the drug that Felix had forced through her system, or from an uncontrollable fear reflex that had gone unnoticed, she had peed the bed.

Shit, shit, shit...

Her face flushed hot with shame and embarrassment. Felix could not find out. Emerson pictured his disgusting sympathetic smile, patronizing her, scolding her, as if she were a child. Or, who knows, maybe he was into it... no matter what, she couldn't bear to think of his reaction.

Her options, however, were limited. The best thing she could think of was to push her sheets under the bed and hope he didn't notice their absence. She felt her brain clouding with anxiety and stress once again.

Slowly and carefully, Emerson began bunching up the sheet under her legs, a task made much harder with her restricted arms.

However, as if he could hear her thoughts, as if he knew that this was the worst moment to walk in, the door clicked, and Felix was back.

Emerson froze, staring at him. She didn't know how obvious it was—how incriminating she looked—but with her heart pumping wildly, she lowered her hands and tried to be as still as possible.

"Hey baby. How are you feeling?" Felix asked, shutting the door behind him and studying her.

"Fine," Emerson whispered, praying for him to leave; begging him internally not to take any more steps towards her.

Felix raised his eyebrows. "I can't tell if you're calm or not," he said. "Are you going to attack me again?"

"I..." Emerson hesitated. If she said yes, would he leave? Or would he simply send more strange drugs into her body?