Captivated

CHAPTER FOUR

I wake up after a long period of drifting in and out of sleep. Am I to assume it is morning time? How does one keep track of the days or time in a place like this? When I open my eyes, I see a blue plastic cup sitting in front of me. Just sitting there, a little past arms lengths away. Is this some kind of sick joke? How the hell am I supposed to drink that if I have no use of my hands? I scoot my bum forwards a bit, sliding across the cool cement floor, and stretch my legs out so that my feet are on each side of the cup. I carefully wrap the inner sides of my feet around the plastic cup and slowly pull it in towards myself. Thank God for my flexibility. Once the cup is in between my thighs, I lean down as far as I can, stretching my neck and back lower to the ground, and try to slurp the water from the edge of the cup. I'm still not close enough. I grab onto the edge of the cup with my teeth, carefully straightening my back and sitting up straight. I tilt my head back slowly and the water begins to flow into my mouth. I try to swallow as fast as I can, with the cup remaining clenched between my teeth, before more water flows down my throat. I'm not fast enough. The water spills into my throat and I start to choke, consequently dropping the cup and spilling the remainder of the water all over myself. I curse as I catch my breath and try to shake the wetness off my clothes. The cup rolls to the side and I'm left sitting there, soaked with water. I tilt my neck back, leaning my head against the pole. I really have to pee. If Dane doesn't come down here soon I'm going to have to go on the floor. I bet he'll enjoy cleaning that up. It's then that I notice how quiet it is. I strain my neck and try to face Jo, but when I glance over at her spot at the pole, she's not there. I whip my head frantically around as my eyes search the dark basement. "Jo!?" I call out. No response. "JO!" I yell. "JO! JO!" I hear loud footsteps getting closer, then the basement door swings open and someone hurries down the steps in front of me. Once they get close enough, I can see who it is: Avery.

"Where's Jo!?"

"Shhh," he hushes me. "She's in her room. Please stop yelling."

"What? Her room?"

"He had to get her room setup. It's ready now. He moved her in there this morning."

"Where is she?" I ask. He points to the far side of the basement. There are multiple doors which I assumed to just be closet space. "She's in there?"

He nods.

"Do I get a room?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Beside it. Yours isn't ready yet."

"Why not?"

"He's still cleaning up from the last one."

I feel my heart sink in my chest. "The last one?"

He hesitates before answering. "Tiffany. She was in here before you."

"And where is she now?" I ask.

"Gone..." he trails off.

"Gone where?" I ask. He doesn't answer. My throat tightens up and the tears begin falling down my cheek.

"Don't cry." he says, but he's not very comforting. I whimper louder and drop my head. "Please stop crying." he warns.

"Don't tell me what to do!" I snap through clenched teeth. I study his gaze – it's almost emotionless. I sniffle loudly, trying to stop the snot from dripping out of my nose.

"I'm sorry," he says as he lowers himself down in front of me.

In between whimpers, I catch a look of sadness in his eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"It's not me – it's him." he looks away. "I don't have a choice."

"Everyone has a choice. You can choose to let me go."