Angel In Disguise

two

angelica's pov - september 9th

When I wake up my body is rigid and so sore. I feel malnourished and dead. I cautiously lift my wrists noticing how red and bloody they are. I have tiny bruises littered across my skin and it looks like I had an IV in my hand. Confused, I wonder how long I'd been out for. Surely not that long.

As I assess my injuries and notice how dry my throat is, I'm swiftly brought back to reality. Looking around I can feel my chest tighten and my heart drop. In my whole nineteen years of life, I have lived violence-free thanks to Joel.

This was something different, this was premeditated. Someone planned this, perfectly.

After taking a moment to calm my nerves I finally look up to see I'm in some type of renovated box car with one single window and three doors. After pushing on what looked to be the main door with no avail to it opening, I push myself onto the window ledge and almost rip my arms off trying to pry it to open. Fuck, my wrists hurt.

Hearing the door open behind me I fall on my side. Sitting up I bring my legs to my chest, not daring to look up. The door shuts roughly and I try not to flinch. I can feel my ears ringing with every heavy footstep that is made toward me.

Hearing the scrape of a chair they sit in front of me, I try to take slow deep breaths but I'd be lying to say I wasn't terrified. My head is ripped up harshly and I'm met with the same blue eyes from last night. Or at least I think last night? My head hurts.

I see words leave her lips but my brain isn't registering a sound. After a moment of silence and me staring intensely at her eyes, she tightens her grip on my chin, "Speak when spoken to." And that is all it takes for me to stand to my feet and add more distance between us.

It seems every step I take, she takes two more, and before I know it I'm being pushed against the wall.

"I don't like the way you're acting," She breathes, slowly reaching into her pockets.

I bite the inside of my cheek when I feel cold metal pressed against my neck. "When I step away, I expect you to sit your ass in that chair and answer my questions, angel."

I do as she says, afraid of being hurt because I was already in so much pain.

I sit in the chair she once occupied, almost tipping over because I was just that dizzy. I feel her eyes on me as she circles the perimeter.

Once back in my field of vision she barks heavy words, "Do you know why you're here?" I shake my head, still not understanding how this all happened.

"Words."

I gulp down, "No, I don't. I don't know anything. I don't have any valuable information that would be of use to you." I say honestly and cringe at how I stumbled over my words. I cough, my throat hurting. She laughs a scary villain laugh. Feeling the anger boil in my chest I bite my tongue.

"You really don't know? Your little friend Ellie... killed my dad." She hisses at me. I can't help but gasp.

"Maybe you aren't so stupid after all," she scoffs. But panic overtakes my senses and I can feel my chest tighten. I'm standing in front of the woman who killed my father. Does she know?

"Until I decide what to do with you, you'll be staying here." She grips my arm and pulls me over to one of the two doors side by side.

"Take a shower," She barks at me. "You've been drugged and unconscious for a month. I don't want you stinking up my house." I try to process her words. I've been out a month? How far away are we?

I'm going to die here.

I hear the door lock and I close my eyes, crying. Not caring how loud I am. I'm stuck here without any clue as to what's going on or what will happen to me.

I miss Ellie.

I miss Joel so much.

I miss my garden tools and the sound of the waves crashing against the land.

Without much of a choice, I look around noticing I'm in a small room. It's scarcely decorated, almost feeling like a dungeon. The floor is cold and a layer of dust covers the majority of the surfaces. Nothing but a bed and a side table with a lamp next to it. There are folded sheets sitting on top of the mattress and a singular pillow. I stand to my feet and shake my sandals off taking notice of the lines of dirt that outline my feet.

Maybe what she was saying is true. Did she keep me drugged and sedated the whole trip here? For a whole month? It explains my sore throat and achy jaw. How did she pull that off medically? I think I'd rather not know.

I walk up to the small bathroom area in my newfound room and slowly strip my clothes. Maybe a nice shower will help me think better. Figure out how to get out of here.

But after finishing my shower and brushing my teeth, all I want to do is lay down and sleep. I feel incredibly exhausted and there are so many cracks in my memory. I feel disoriented and frightened.

I throw on the leggings and long-sleeved tee, tugging at the material, not used to having my arms covered. I feel myself start crying again and decide to drift away hoping I'd die in my sleep.

_____
let's pretend abby knows medical bullshit since her dad was obvi a doctor 💅🏻

how's this? i'm so bad at writing it's taken me ages to conjure this up but there are no good abby fics. i absolutely loathe reading the term y/n or like reader. i'm dumb and get confused lmao