It Started As a Deal

Chapter 8: Nightmare Realm

"I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking." ~Finnick Odair

*

I was back inside the room of torture. The place where I was kept. The walls were the same ugly brown color that peeled at the edges. All of the spots were in the same places: sweat stains on the wall, throw up on the mix matched carpeted floor, blood on the walls and sheets, and the stalactites were still hanging from the ceiling.

The floor was made of mix matched carpet patterns making it look like a patch work quilt. Parts of it were solid colors and others were stripped, spotted, or swirled. There were fifty different patterns in all. One for each girl. . .

There were no windows, only cracks in the wall that were boarded up, letting no sunlight in. A lone light bulb hung from the ceiling casting ghastly shadows across the walls. The room was hot and stuffy, as there was no air condition. As far as the eye could see, there were no doors or any other means of escape.

Lining the walls and the middle of the room in rows were single beds with sheets and a pillow but no comforters. Some were on the ground having broke while others were unstable and could break at any moment.

There were cracked mirrors hanging on the walls with broken pieces littered among the floor covered in clotted blood. Stuffing from teddy bears long forgotten was scattered throughout the room.

I looked into one and saw a me from another time. A me I wanted to forget existed. A me I never wanted to see again.

She was me when I was younger. She was a broken soul, anybody could tell that just from looking in her eyes. They were dull and hopeless with no light in them. She had bags under her eyes, and her face was hollow with a faint recognition of fear in her eyes.

The young girl had limp brown hair with a greasy face. She wore a ripped tank top and ragged shorts that showed her malnourished body that was basically skin and bones. She looked hopeless and as if she was begging for death to come to her.

But even though I knew I was me now, the person I saw was me then.

Slowly, apparitions of the girls whose souls lingered behind appeared. They were all in their individual patches and sat quiet and unmoving. All of them had their eyes fixated on a clock on the wall that I hadn't noticed before. The audible sound of the second hand ticking drew me in, and I soon was staring fixated at the clock.

The second passed by, but they were slow. Each second felt like an eternity in this state. All fifty of us sat looking at the clock. I don't know what we're waiting for, but I have a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Sweat broke out across my forehead, but I made no move to wipe it away. My palms became sweaty, and I wanted to throw up. Somewhere behind me, I actually heard someone throw up.

I couldn't take it anymore! I wanted to move! I needed to move! As soon as I went to move, there was a rattling sound.

Everyone sat frozen in place like statues. We looked at each other and recognized the fear in each others' eyes. Our eyes then went to a spot on the floor where three patches of carpet were gone. Now that I look at it, there were some other patches missing. Twelve in all.

A hatch in the floor opened up. I hear every girl, including me, draw in a breath and hold it. Waiting. A male figure climbed out of the hole, but his whole figure was blurry meaning I had no idea what he looked like.

The man lumbered around as if he was drunk. Every now and then, he would stop and touch a girl's face. . . or body. All of us cringed when he passed even if he hadn't touched us.

Finally, he stopped in the middle of the room in an empty patch. He looked back and forth between the four girls forming a square around him. I was one of those girls.

"Hhm. . . who to pick?" he asked himself with a finger tapping his face. "Hhm . . . innie. . .meanie. . . minnie. . . YOU." He points to the girl on my right and grabbed her legs.

He starts dragging her to the opening in the floor, and those in the way scrambled to move. Nobody wanted to be taken along with the chosen. The girl was screaming and pounding her fists on the floor.

"Somebody! Anybody! Help!" she screamed with her face no longer in sight, and her hands gripping the edge. The man's hands reached out and yanked her down, and the door slammed shut.

I sat up straight in bed. My heart was pounding in my chest, and sweat was dipping down my face and back drenching my t-shirt and sweater. I was hyperventilating making it hard for me to breath, and I was crying making noises that sounded inhuman.

"Whoa Imogen are you okay?" Kye asks jumping up alarmed at my behavior. I tried to respond, but I couldn't formulate any words. My body was shaking so bad and had become cold. "Did you have a nightmare or something?" I nodded my head yes with that being the only thing that I could do.

"Shhh. It's okay. I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you. You're safe here now," he said to me gathering me up in his arms and pulling me down onto the bed with him. He stroked my hair and whispered soothing words in my ear to calm me down. It took a while, but my heart rate slowed down and my body stopped shaking. I soon fell asleep wrapped in Kye's protective embrace.

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Author's Note: So this chapter is really dark (for my standards anyway). When I was writing this, I actually made myself feel queasy, but that might be because I know what's going to happen. I think some people might be confused, so let me say this: this has something to do with Imogen's PTSD. Anyways, you'll hear from me again on Tuesday! As always, love you guys!

~jnicoleb1234 out!