Underground

20

My eyes burn from the light hitting my eyes, the sun hitting my lids making my dreams melt away with what was my comfort. My eyes begin opening and the realization hits before I can even open them all the way, making me feel around before I use sight for context clues.

I smell vanilla, whiskey and cigarettes and I almost enjoy the smells conjoined together, but my bed doesn't smell like this, my bed smells like me this isn't the smell of me.

I choose to finally open the lids of my eyes and I realize I lay in silk, black sheets, my sheets aren't black, nor are they silk, my sheets are white and I honestly don't even know what material I lay in every night.

The room is large, another contrast from my smaller bright room, this bed post being large and dark complementing the room as well.

I lift myself up from the bed, bringing my feet off the mattress, anxiety beginning to reach me and confusion only heightening.

My eyes look down at the mahagonny wood as light dances around the floors, making me look up at the sheer grey curtains doing a poor job of keeping out the light.

It's definitely meant to be that way, never allowing the room to be too dark, I'm sure if we're high up the city lights come in every night.

I look from the curtain and at the closed door on the other side of the room, lifting my body off of the sheets I feel like I should be scared but I'm not.

The last thing I remember is laying on the concrete helicopter pad last night with Harry stating that I was going to fall asleep if I didn't get up. I debated that I was resting my eyes but I suppose he was correct because I have the feeling I'm not indanger.

Who would have thought I would find safety in the thought of waking up in Harry's home.

Not me, that's for sure.

I rub my eyes before beginning small steps to the door, I hate how deep of a sleeper I am, swear to god I could be kidnapped in my sleep and never know a thing.

I bring my hand to the door knob, the sound of footsteps right near the door make my hand move away from opening it, my breath hitches until I stop my breathing all together, as if it'll make me invisible.

I don't know why I'm so scared, maybe it's because me assuming the best situation is just oblivious and this new life, the one I have accidentally found myself in, I've realized you can be a lot but not oblivious.

Part of me knows I have to now assume the worst.

I take a deep breath as if that will somehow calm my erratic nerves, I know it won't, having no idea where I am and how I got here I think I have the right to these emotions.

I shake my head and chuckle, knowing I'm being overdramatic as I open the door looking both ways of what is a hall, there are stairs going down on both ends of an overhang that faces me. 

So I must be on the second floor.

I hear chatter down stairs, as I look down at my watch to see it's eleven in the morning, I never stay asleep for that long, not recently, but I suppose with the lack of sleep recently, It all happened at once.

 I decide to look at the overhang and seeing a couch, a living room and at the other end farthest from where I stand is what I assume to be a kitchen.

In the living room sits Harry, and the few boys from last night, they look like they're talking about something serious from the way I see Harry look serious yet bored while he rub his face in annoyance.

Once his hands are off his face he looks up, and when he does his eyes surface to my tired body, our eyes catch each other and I smile tightly at him, not only because he doesn't seem mad but this also means I wasn't entirely kidnapped.