Don't Get Into The Car

[ 2 ]

You blink, slowly opening your eyes for a brief second, taking in the dim lighting before closing them again. A faint, almost inaudible voice nags at you from the back of your head, desperately trying to rouse you up. But you are so utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. Waking up feels like an overwhelming task.

You instinctively curl up, fold your body and bring your knees to your chest. You wrap your arms tightly around your legs, seeking to shield yourself from the stinging chill that fills the surrounding air, causing your skin to prickle. Did you forget to close the window before going to bed again?

Your fingers start searching for a blanket that you might have accidentally kicked to the foot of the bed while sleeping. However, instead of feeling the soft mattress, your palm brushes against something hard and rough.

Your eyes snap open, your pupils expand, and your heartbeat quickens. You are not at home, not in your bedroom or your bed. Instead, you find yourself lying on the hard, cold floor in the middle of a dimly lit room; the coldness seeps into your skin.

A sharp throb explodes from the side of your head as you try to move, causing you to grimace in pain and your body to freeze. Carefully and slowly, you brush your palm against your temple. Your fingertips get coated in a sticky substance that turns out to be dried blood.

You jump to your feet, but the blood rushes to your head as you stand up, causing you to lose your balance and tumble back down onto your knees.

Fear takes over your body, engulfing every inch of your skin and overwhelming you with dread. Your eyes begin to sting as tears well up. Your heart races, its pounding echoing in your ears like an unyielding drumbeat. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to ground yourself and calm down, but all you can do is surrender to the crushing anxiety that has seized you. Your sobs become uncontrollable. When you take a breath, it feels like your lungs are constricting, making you hyperventilate in distress.

Just when you think you can't bear it any longer, the sound of faint footsteps outside reaches your ears and brings you back to reality.

As you rise to your feet, you start taking cautious, small steps, trying not to make any sudden movements. Despite your dizziness, fuzzy vision, and pain in your head, you muster enough strength to approach the window.

Your gaze sweeps across the vast landscape before you. The curtain of tall trees and a narrow gravel road is all you can spot. The house you're in is isolated, with no signs of civilization for miles. No matter how hard you press your face against the chilly glass in a frantic attempt to see as far as possible, all you can see is a dense, thick forest.

It's the break of dawn. You can tell because the sun is slowly ascending above the horizon, painting everything in the revolting shades of orange and yellow. How did you get here? And why can't you remember what happened last night or why the side of your head is covered in blood?

Many more questions arise in your mind. You cannot answer any of them, causing your frustration to grow. However, once your attention is drawn to a movement outside, in the driveway, suddenly, a wave of clarity sweeps over you, hitting you with such force that it feels like all the air has been knocked out of your chest. Your knees wobble and your eyesight dims momentarily, so you press yourself to the wall, afraid that you might faint.

A man is standing next to the car, the very same one in which you got in willingly last night. The passenger door is wide open. There's a white bucket placed next to the stranger's boots. In his hand, he holds a cloth, using it to meticulously scrub the glass and clean the window, which is stained with blood. Your blood.

An icy shiver runs down your spine and you feel your throat becoming lodged as you watch him try to erase any evidence of what had happened last night and how you, blind to the obvious danger, walked into the stranger's trap, allowing him to kidnap you.