HAUNTINGLY | 18+

6 | Chains

*Trigger Warning: mentions of assault.*

I slowly started to gain consciousness. As I blinked my eyes open, I found myself surrounded by darkness, save for the faint glow of a small lightbulb dangling over my head. Memories of the club flooded back, crashing into my mind like waves.

Taking shots with Olivia.

Trying to find the bathroom.

Opening the last door.

The two men.

Drugs, guns, and money spread on the table. 

The white cloth placed over my face.

I couldn't remember anything after that.

A sudden jolt of fear coursed through me as I remembered the white cloth pressed against my face, the world around me fading into darkness. The memories painted a haunting picture, leaving me with more questions than answers.

I needed to get out of here. I desperately tried to stand up, only to realize that my legs and arms were firmly chained to the chair.

I strained against the chains, vigorously shaking my arms and legs in a desperate attempt to free myself. But despite my efforts, the chains refused to budge or loosen their grip.

I came to the realization that I was stuck, unable to escape.

Feeling a sense of resignation, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. The drugs were still having an affect on me. Alone with my thoughts once again, my mind began to wander.

I looked out the window and saw my brother speeding down our street, his reckless driving filling me with a mix of worry and disappointment.

Shaking my head with disappointment, I walked out of my room and looked down the hallway to my left. Jason's room, always kept tightly closed and locked, was strictly off-limits to me.

However, my curiosity had gotten the better of me in the past, and I had attempted to go inside his room multiple times. But I never had any luck.

Staring at his closed door, I weighed the risks and decided to take a chance. "Fuck it," I muttered under my breath.

Slowly, I approached his room, my hand reaching out to grasp the doorknob. To my surprise, the door yielded easily to my touch, swinging open with a soft creak.

I cautiously entered the room, surveying my surroundings with my eyes. At first glance, everything appeared to be in its usual state.

Taking a few steps forward, I made my way towards Jason's desk, which was scattered with papers. As I quickly looked through them, I realized they weren't important.

My attention then turned to the locked drawer of the desk. Determined to see what was inside, I combed through the papers, eventually locating the key hidden among them. I inserted the key into the lock and turned it, unlocking the drawer and revealing its contents.

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion as I looked inside the drawer. There were only three photos inside: one of our mother, one of our father, and one of myself. I grabbed the photos and looked at them more closely. My heart dropped into my stomach as I turned my attention to the back of each picture.

The words on the back of our mother's photo struck me with a chilling realization: "Died from childbirth." A shiver ran down my spine as I read the haunting truth.

A similar sense of despair washed over me when I read the words written on the back of our father's photo: "Died from suicide."

Finally, as I examined the back of my own photo, a disconcerting word awaited me: "Pending."