Against My Will

The slow drip of cold water on my face woke me slowly from the dreary numbness of unconsciousness. I groaned and cracked my eyes open to look onto nothing. There was very little light, but there was no obvious source. I sat up and my head throbbed in response. I hissed through clenched teeth, waiting for the vertigo to pass. Son of a bologna eating biscuit, I thought. What did they do to me? My body felt raw and bruised. I could see cuts and scrapes running randomly across my arms and legs in the dim light. My purple tank top was ripped in several places.

The room I was in consisted of three paint-chipped walls and a door that led to God knows where. I shivered as another drop of water hit me. I looked up to see where the leak was, but it was too dark to make anything out. I shrugged it off and scooted out of the way; I had more important things to worry about, like how to get out of here.

I thought back over the things that had happened to find me in this position. I had just been cruising the mall with Lucas when a woman stopped me and asked if I had ever considered becoming a model. To be truthful, I hadn’t. I didn’t think I was pretty enough. The woman however, was extremely persistent. I gave in and set up an appointment for the following weekend to come to a test shoot. I arrived and we took some shots, and I really didn’t think twice about the whole thing until after I was back in my regular clothes and talking with the woman.

“How did you like modeling?” she asked.

I shrugged and answered. “It was pretty fun. I don’t think I want to continue it though.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“It’s just not something I really like doing, I guess.”

“I thought this was your first time though, Falyn?”

I nodded. “It is, and maybe I will consider doing it a few more times. Right now however, it’s not something I see in my future.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Poor girl, you think you can leave now.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

All she did though was shake her head and turned to talk to the photographer. A chill went up my spine and I stood there awkwardly for a minute. I was uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. Finally, I decided to leave. I made it out of the studio without any problems. Once I was on the street and a dozen feet from the door, however, two guys grabbed me. I started to scream but one slammed a hand over my mouth and the other shoved a gun in my face. “Scream and I will blow your brains out,” he said, causing me to gulp at the sudden lump in my throat. My heart thudded wildly against my chest and fear froze my limbs. I made a small squeak when the one behind me started dragging me, but I didn’t try to stop him. I wasn’t going to give them any reason to kill me.

They dragged me over to a work van and threw me into the back. I landed on the floor with a small “oomph.” I made to sit up, but the man with the gun growled and said, “Stay down and stay quiet.” The engine came to life, then and we jerked forward, making me slide hard into a metal tank. We drove around for what seemed like an eternity to my fear-filled mind. Finally the car came to a stop and one of the men up front kicked me out of the van.

I landed on a concrete sidewalk and used my hands to catch myself. The impact caused me to cut my palms and tear holes in my jeans. I cried out in pain as the other man, who I noticed smelled like stale beer and cigarettes dragged me to my feet. I stumbled forward, completely disoriented. A slight veer off of the path earned me a smack across the back of my head that I was pretty sure gave me a concussion. My vision blurred momentarily and my eyes watered. I blinked twice, trying to clear my sight. Once I could see again, I finally saw what was in front of me. There was a set of French double doors inlaid with stained glass windows. There were also flowerbeds filled with different colored blossoms running along the sides of two red brick walls. I didn’t see much else. The setup seemed really weird to me. It was like they were trying to say ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of. We aren’t going to hurt you.’ You already have, I thought bitterly.