"You brought me back to life and filled my lungs with air, rescuing me from the brink of death."
His whisper wraps around me like a gentle embrace, filling me with a sense of euphoria and pulling me into a state of bliss.
"Your love is my lifeline."...
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Aaliyah
A sharp pain throbs in my head, making me wince and groan. My mouth feels like a desert, dry and parched, begging for a sip of water. I try to open my eyes, but they feel heavy and encrusted with mascara. I can feel the remnants of last nights makeup, smeared and sticky on my face. I groggily roll over and bury my face into my pillow, hoping to find some relief from the pounding in my head. Taking a deep breath, my senses jolt awake by the faint scent of cologne.
Confused and disoriented, my eyes pop open and I sit up quickly, my head spinning from the sudden movement. My bleary eyes struggle to focus as I take in my surroundings.
This is not my bedroom.
My heart drops and my stomach twists once I come to this startling realization. Panic sets in as I realize I have no idea where I am or how I got here. My mind races as I try to piece together the events of the previous night, my head throbbing with each thought. I sit there for a moment, trying to calm my racing heart and find some clarity. But as I look around, I can only come to one conclusion — I have woken up in a stranger's bedroom.
"Shit, shit, shit," I whisper, yanking the navy blue blankets off of me. Standing up from the bed, I feel a wave of dizziness hit me, but I push it aside and frantically search for my phone and wallet. The black nightstand next to the bed only holds a lamp, providing a dim light to the otherwise dark room. I curse under my breath as I realize my belongings are not there.
My eyes then land on the dresser across the room, and I rush over to it, searching the empty surface in a frenzy. Still, no luck. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror above the dresser and cringe at the sight. My once sleek dress is now rumpled and wrinkled, my wild curls sticking out in every direction. The mascara I had applied so carefully last night is now smudged and smeared underneath my eyes, giving me a raccoon-like appearance.
I mentally kick myself for not investing in Savannah's highly recommended mascaras. But in this moment, I can't bring myself to care about my appearance. All I can think about is getting out of this stranger's room as quickly as possible.
As I turn to leave, I notice that the four grey walls that surround me are bare and devoid of any personal touches. The only decoration is a small poster of a band called Metallica, and I can't help but wonder if this person had just moved in, or if they are simply not creative. Either way, it's really giving me the creeps.
I begin to tiptoe out of the room in an attempt to remain as quiet as possible. I cringe when the door creaks as I slowly open it, peaking my head out to make sure the coast is clear before stepping out into the narrow hallway. The dull, white walls that entrap me are also bare, and I can't help but feel a pang of sadness for the emptiness of this place.
