Blinded In Chains -Synacky-

Chapter 12

I awoke with a loud groan, pain instantly filling my head.

My hand instinctively flew to the throbbing part of my head, but as I lifted my right arm I felt a searing, almost numbing pain rush through my wrist, which I noticed was slightly swollen. I winced, slowly and gingerly lowering my arm to the ground before placing my good hand on the pounding bruise on my forehead, just below my hairline. I pulled my hand away from it and grimaced, seeing that my fingertips were glistening with blood.

I felt intense, excrutiating pain as I tried to pull myself up into a sitting position, groaning again as I began to feel pain not only in my head and my wrist, but in virtually ever part of me. I could move, that I was thankful for. Every single one of my joints ached, my arms and legs were battered and bruised, and the centre of my chest was hurting like a bitch. It even

hurt when I breathed, for god's sake.

I rubbed my sore head as I tried to remember what had happened, why I was laying at the bottom of the stairs with pain in every single fiber on my body. I flicked my tongue across my bottom lip like I always did when thinking, and then made a face, tasting blood.

A small whimper left my lips as I rested my head against the wall, looking up at the stairs and seeing tiny bloodstains on the edges and corners of preactically every step. I followed the blood trail to the top of the stairs, where I stared at the chipped and peeling dark red door. I stared at it in fascination, knowing that it played some significance as to why I was laying here now.

And then the memory came back to me.

Brian had thrown me down the fucking stairs.

I felt tears starting to trickle down my cheeks, and I knew that it wasn't because of the pain. It was because he'd promised me that he wouldn't hurt me. He promised. Then again it was my own fault, having trusted him so much. But at the time it had seemed that he meant it, just the way that he said it, and the look in his eyes...

But of course he had lied to me, what else should I expect from a fucking kidnapper?

I cried harder, both at his lie and my own stupidity. I had thought that he had cared for me and I, even after everything that had happened, was starting to care for him in return.

In anger with Brian, and in frustration with myself, I plummeted my fist into the wall, letting out a loud growl as I did so. I barely felt the pain in my knuckles as they connected with the concrete, because I had so much anger in my body that I didn't know what to do with it.

I think I'd punched the wall a few more times before I collapsed to the floor, sobbing into my arms and curling up into a ball. It was as I continued to cry harder and harder, that I felt something I thought I'd never feel.

I wanted him to hold me.