I wake up in a clean room that smells like disinfectant. My memories are foggy, I don't know where I am or what kind of place I am in, but I know the reason I am in here is due to my parents. My parents could've found me and put me in some sort of torture chamber.
I can remember the severe blow to my head and I rest my hand on my head. WHAT THE HELL ITS NOT THERE. SOMEONE HAS CHOPPED OFF MY SCALP. Panic pumps through my veins and something is drawing my hand back to its original position. A needle, probably the reason I can't feeling my head. Injecting me with some form of numbing agent. I put my hand to my head again and I can feel a bold patch. That's when it hits me. Im in a hospital. Normal people would have come to that conclusion at first whiff but I've only been in a hospital once. I was in Sudan searching for a targets family. I needed a jab incase of mosquitoes or tics, even then it was just a muddy shack with a bloodied mattress on the dusty floor.
I heard footstep gaining in on the door. Closer and closer, I tense up and stay still. I pretend to be asleep but keep one eye squinted open. A man walks into the room and sits on the chair next to me.
"Who are you?" I hear him whisper. I didn't feel comfortable talking to him just yet because he didn't look like a doctor. His scruffy greyish hair wasn't in a hair net and he was wearing holey jeans and a green (same colour as his eyes) Christmas jumper with an outline of a reindeer. Not exactly surgeon material.
"I'm sure someone is worried sick about you." He states. My dad taught me how to pass a lie detector once. He said it was all about keeping calm, keeping steady breathes and eye contact. I've used these skills several times, I guess I could try them now.
YOU ARE READING
The Prey
ActionI can remember when i was little that i was jealous of other kids because they had a normal life. I wanted it so badly that i forced my family away so i could be fostered into an average home. But now my past is hunting me down.
