What would happen if your name isn't your name? If you aren't who you think you are? And if what you believe to be real is an illusion created by your tormented mind? How would you feel?
In this story, fantasy sets the stage for a world where Chlori...
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My chest rises and falls, I look around with icy eyes, I can't even close them. I start to sob in search of answers. I... I fell. I was running, I stumbled, I fell... I've already said that... So, what happened? Why was I running?
I drag my body along the ground but something heavy on my wrists prevents me from continuing. I try to see despite the dense dark mass of the room, I can barely make out that they are chains. On my feet and hands. That suddenly slaps me in the face. So, I've been kidnapped... Tyler had the balaclava, was he one of them? They've managed to trap me. I curl up and close my eyes tightly, bringing my hands to my chest and limiting myself to silently wait for the tremors in my chest to stop. Every single one of my thoughts is subject to my worst fears, to the "what now?" that paralyses me.
···
I think I've slept for too long. I can't keep trying to avoid the man who appears only to leave me a glass of water. If something has been done to me or they are waiting for a response from me, nothing good can be said. Other than the feeling of having my brain crushed and compressed in a box, there is no possibility of a single rational thought entering my mind to make me plan an escape or act on whatever it is. This is my end. These stories don't have a good ending.
I'm scared and I just tremble incessantly as if I were prey, alert to every noise. What should I do? I've tried to think even in my dreams about what I'm doing here, but I can't. It all must be a mistake because I'm the last person anyone would want to kidnap, especially knowing that nothing is being done to me and I'm alone in the dark.
I can't distinguish the colour of the walls or if there are objects around me. I often lean hoping to touch the large dark mass that surrounds me, and fear creeps into me when I do. A limited emptiness in an unknown space intimidates me and subjects all my movements. Anything can come out of here, and that only makes me curl up more in my place.
···
"Ah!"
I gasp at the scream that is heard again.
I don't know exactly how often this happens, but in the torturous silence, I hear groans of pain coming from somewhere very close to where I am. Although I force myself to believe that I am not alone here, between the cold and the sepulchral silence, I doubt it when one and only one groan is heard. Am I going crazy? Is this silence affecting me?
I cover my face with my hands in frustration, making my chains rattle. I need my mother, my heart hurts thinking about her worry, it angers me to have failed her. She's right, I'm not independent. This is how I've ended up not taking her advice seriously. It burns me inside.
When I can no longer bear this feeling of bitterness, I hear the door open. I immediately hide my head between my knees and cover my head with my arms. Very subtly, I hear the door creak shut and those calculated steps in my direction. Why wasn't it as abrupt as usual?
