The Resistance

One

    Beep ......

   Beep...............

   My eyes are still closed while I feel the surface that I am laying on. I attempt to wiggle my toes but I'm not fully capable of doing the particular task .

 I lay still and try to awake more. I needed to move.

I little screech comes from my side. I'm pretty sure the sound came from a door that needed a little work.

I tense my arms to a smell that just sends daggers through my nose. I scrunch my face as an effect of the impaling smell that filled the room .

I gain more awareness of my own body so I use that to open my eyes. 

My breathing now came in deep breathes that pierced through my lungs. I used that adrenaline to quickly push my self up. My heartbeat paced rapidly, even more, considering I was not aware of the place I was currently in. My eyes scater around the room lokking for clues to which I was at .  

There was not much to see just the white walls , a machine that I  was hooked up to , and the bed that was underneath me .

" What the hell !" ripping the needle out of my arm , I force the protecters that are on the side of the bed down .

Once I know that the fluid is no longer running through me. I slouch over feeling slightly more relaxed but I demanded answers.
While gazing more deeper into the room, my bloody scars caught my attention. Deep gashes run through my arms creating a piercing sting through my body. Then I remember last night.

The man

The chains

The screaming

The crowd

I remember it all. 

I throw myself off the bed determined to get somewhere . I put my hands behind me on the bed to balance myself for when I stand up.  Pushing myself off the bed gave a little too much momentum to stand. My body stumbles forward and I quickly bring my hands in front of me to catch the fall. When my body contacted the floor, a scratchy moan came from my mouth as I tense my damaged body so I could deal with the pain.

Placing my hands in front of me , I use a force so gentle but determined to push myself off the ground . I gentley sit upward very tall to make sure I don't pull anything . I seriously feel like an old person . I mentally rolled my eyes to the thought of my immaturity. I usually don't mind by how immature I am because they usually make a situation mote fun , but not this one .

Me being in the room that I am now ment one thing .

They know me .

They got me .

My thoughts were shaken by the sound of the rustic old door creeping open. There were scratches that were placed all around the window that was built into the door. They reminded me of horror move when someone was being trapped.

I stare at the high heels that were ever so perfectly made to the feet that walked in them. As weird as it seemed, I slowly worked my eyes up the lean and tall feminine figure that was in front of me. The woman has a beautiful structure with perfectly pale skin that was just right for the way she was built. She wore a nice black button shirt with a short navy blue pencil skirt. Her chocolate brown hair was twirled up in a neat bun that laid on top of her head. She gracefully made her way over to were I was laying and just stood there. Staring me down and just standing. Not helping me at all. Just standing there.  

I glare up at her, trying to throw all my hatred and disgust into that one gaze. They put me here, they ripped away my freedom and now I am stuck here. Stuck in this damn place, with these damned people. 

My hands tremble as I grab onto the bed to pull myself unsteadily to my feet. My knuckles turn white as my arms strain against the weight of my protesting body. I plop back on the floor and scrape by back against the hospital bed. 

"What the hell do you want?" my voice crackling as soon as I spoke. 

She still just stands there. Nothing changed. Not even her cold facial expressions. 

The nurse reached behind her back and pulled out a little small black device that looks like a speaker to an earbud. 

"We need assistance in room 7." her face still cold and blank like she had been programmed. I rolled my eyes and sigh as I slump over on the floor. 

After a minute of tense silence, the roughed up door is nearly ripped off its hinges as it flies open. A man stands in the doorway, his blonde hair combed perfectly and the look of satisfaction etched on his fine features. Staring at the prize they caught me. 

' Oh God , Not him. '