Stockholm Syndrome

trois

three | lesley

     Laughter erupted in her ears, causing her to wake up. Opening her eyes, Lesley hissed as a bright light hanging above blinded her. She closed her eyes quickly, rubbing them in hope that her eyes would get used to the light. Reopening them, Lesley noticed that she was no where familiar. The bed she sat in didn't feel right underneath her, and as she looked around the windowless room she realized something was off. Getting up, she noticed she was no longer in her clothes. In fact, she had never seen the oversized 'Give 17 year olds the vote' shirt she had on. She frowned, now more confused than ever, trying to remember something---anything---from the night before, except her mind was blank after her memories in the park. She decided it was time to find out where she was and what she was doing there. So she walked towards the door and turned the knob. Then there was that all so familiar sound: the sound of a locked door. That's when she started to freak out.
     "Hello?" She called out, rattling the door knob once more. "Is anyone there?" The uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach grew and she started banging on the door. "Help!" She yelled, "help me, please! I'm trapped!"
     The sound of laughter above her stopped and then it was dead silent. She heard doors open and then shut. She heard the sound of feet thumping to their destination. She heard talking. And then, it was gone. A silence settled upon the room. The kind of silence that scares you. The silence that makes everything seem suspenseful. Lesley shut her eyes tight, begging and praying that this was all just a dream and that she would wake up any moment now in the safety of her home. Yet, as she heard noice in the house once more and the voice of a teenage boy in the background, she knew she was screwed.