Against My Will

Chapter Two - Gray

     I opened my eyes to darkness. Or had I even opened them at all? For a moment I was unsure, but then I noticed a tiny sliver of yellow light that snuck through an opening to my right. When I turned my body and held up my hand, I felt a wall.

     Drab gray wallpaper rested under my palm. The speck of light illuminated enough that I could see - and feel - that I was laying on a bed. Never had I been so disoriented - I pushed my left hand onto the mattress. A heavy quilt, wrinkled from my sleeping form, covered the bed. It was a simple thing, all white with a few blue stripes near the top. Homey, ranch-like. So was the frame of the bed. The whole room, with what little light there was to wash it in, held a very plain, but warm feel to the place.

     This was not my bedroom. This was not my bed. The dresser on the opposite wall was not mine. The window at the foot of the bed, with a small wooden bench sitting on the floor beneath the glass, was not mine. None of that stuff was mine - so who did it belong to?

     I started to panic. Though the room was cool, a bead of sweat pooled on my upper lip. Nervous swear. I slid off the bed and hurried to the source of light, the window. I pushed the thick, tan curtains aside.

     Trees. An endless picture of trees stood erect on the opposite side of the glass, sunlight filtering through the receding canopy from above in odd places. Reddish-brown leaves blanketed the forest floor. I was ground level with hundreds of trees. My bedroom was on the second story of my house. This was not my house.

     "Where. . .?"

     I didn't know how to finish. I didn't know what I was trying to say. I touched a hand to my forehead in distress. What was going on?

     I heard footsteps. It was hard to tell where they were coming from. After a quick search I spotted a door in the corner of the room, and when I focused my ears, the steps grew louder. Heavier, almost. Alarm made my stomach flip like the sudden upturn of a car driving around a sharp bend in the road. My heart throbbed against my chest. A heavy bass drum with a hectic rhythm. I had awoke in a strange place with no remembrance of how I came to be here, and now I was finally going to meet the person who brought me to said place.

     The doorknob turned. My heart seemed to stop.

     A loud squeak shattered the silence as the door swung wide. I didn't have much time to prepare for anything - who the footsteps belonged to, where I might be - so the fear didn't come right away. I was a little curious, a little edgy, to see who stood behind the door.

     I wished I had been working on opening the window instead.

     There, standing as tall and as wide as the doorway itself, was the baseball Catcher.

     Memories of the park crashed through my conscious. When I ran past him at the ball diamond I hadn't realized how tall and broad he actually was compared to my small build.

     He wore dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and most importantly, the very mask that earned him his name. The disorientation that seemed to claim me moments before vanished; I was left frozen, completely riddled of emotion or thought.

     "Who the hell are you?" I asked quietly.

     No answer.

     He stepped into the room. I stiffened. Another step.

     "W-why am I here?"

     No answer. Step.

     I swung my head around, looking for an escape route. Perspiration dribbled down my spine. More nervous sweat. My sense of fight-or-flight kicked in and I could no longer sit still. There was no way I could fight. I spun towards the window. My fingers dug underneath the sill, scrabbling for an indent to help me lift the square piece of glass. I heard another step, timing each one unbearably slow, like a person approaching a wild animal. I snarled and scratched at the window.