Kidnapped to live in a Castle

Chapter 27- Thoughts

Chapter 27- Thoughts

_____Lisa's POV______

My eyes were wide open and I was lying on my bed, trying to take deep breaths to calm myself down. Another nightmare had awoken me from my slumber. I was lucky if I had received at least two full hours of sleep because it takes me forever to fall asleep. It's like I'm afraid of dark places even though I leave my light on when I go to bed. I'm also extremely claustrophobic and as a result, I can barely sit still in my own closet when looking for clothes.

Another day in this strange place and although my parents were doing their best to make me feel at home, felt like I was in a prison and I needed to get out.

I have been taking medication for my anxiety and occasionally, I lock myself in my room to prevent me from having a full on panic attack from being in this strange house. It has been extremely difficult trying to adjust to my new life or old life, or whatever this was.

I had been 'home' for about a week and a half and every morning, I would stare at my reflection in the mirror. I still looked a mess. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I refused to actually shower properly because I was scared of my own bathroom, afraid to even close my eyes to wash my pale face. At least I used a wash cloth to wipe myself and stay clean. I was getting stronger and braver as the days went by but it was taking time.

My blond hair looked terrible and too off for my skin tone. It needed some highlights. Why was my hair even blond when in the pictures I had red hair? Was I tired of the red? Was the old me more interested in this awful white blond colour that contrasted horribly with my complexion?

I released a heavy sigh and decided that today I would try to look presentable and maybe take some fresh air outside. I had not been outside from time I came home from the hospital and personally, being cooked up in the house was not good for my health. If I wanted to find out what happened to me or at least recover from the damage received, I would have to start appearing better psychically and mentally. I would also have to work on my emotions to avoid bursting into tears or awakening a panic attack from fear.

Not too long after, I heard a knock at my door and my mom then came in.

"Good morning sweetie. How are you feeling today?" she asked with a warm smile on her face.

"Morning. I'm fine." I responded, brushing her off as quickly as possible.

I hated being lied to. I know she's hiding the truth of what really happened to me. Is she trying to protect me? How bad could the truth be? I mean, why hide it if I'm eventually going to uncover what really happened to me? Maybe if she told me the truth then my memory would begin to restore.

Ugghh! This was so frustrating. Not remembering your past was the ultimate worst filling in the world. I did not know who to trust or not. I hated my life.

After an awkward two minutes of my mother standing in my room, she stammered a little but then managed to tell me that my 'friends' were coming over to see me and then scurried out of my room.

I was actually shocked. I have friends? Wow, this should be interesting. After being cooked up in a totally strange house with people I don't know, I find out I have friends. At least I wasn't a total loser with no friends.

For the first time since I've been here, I actually went in the shower and took an extremely hot bath, allowing my hair to get wet and I even washed it because it was beginning to smell, and not in the good way.

If I had friends, then I had to act as normal as possible. They may just be the answer I'm looking for. They may be able to help me restore my memory, or at least make this hell I'm living a bit easier.