Color Me (under construction).

15. Mildew

||AUTHOR'S NOTE: Are you guys sick of these author notes yet? I sort of am. But I can't get over thanking you all so much, you guys make writing worth it and sometimes I think of giving up. So thank you for pushing me to continue. 

I just wanted to note that this is a short chapter, and that because I'm struggling with the idea of having John's point of view. What are your thoughts? Let me know. 

Also! I wrote a little preview for a story I want to start working on, but I need some lovely input from some lovely people. So go check out The Dream Walkers and let me know what you think. I'd appreciate it so, so much. The link will be posted at the end. 

Love you all. Etnom Xx ||

Beau knew from the strong stench of mildew and the damp air around her that she was in a basement of some sort, her eyes shielded with the black fabric of a blindfold. Her wrists were bound tightly behind her back with rough prickly rope, the wiry material burning her skin with every slight movement. She no longer wore her light jacket and her shoes had been removed, her bare feet pressed firmly against the cold concrete floor; ankles tied securely to the legs of the metal chair she sat upon. The hardness made her butt numb, thousands of little needles travelling through her legs.

For the most part, she was calm. Beau knew that the three men who took her looked like, and she knew one of them by name. Matthew. The image of his rough ensemble flashed in her mind's eye as she tried to commit all of his detail to memory. She wanted to be able to, if prompted, describe in exact detail the man who was responsible for her disappearance.

Disappearance, Beau thought, more like kidnapping.

Immediately, Beau thought of her parents. Especially her erratic mother who was preparing breakfast and waiting patiently for her daughter's return. The failed phone calls to her abandoned and broken cell phone, the nail-biting as she sat impossibly straight on the edge of her sofa, her eyes locked on the door begging for every ticking moment to be the moment Beau walked in. Diane was a woman of great suspicion, and Beau only hoped that that suspicion would kick in quicker than usual.

Suddenly, a slight twinge of panic rose in the pit of Beau's stomach. How long had she been asleep, and when did it happen? Did the man who punched her the first time finally let his boiling rage get the better of him? Beau wondered if, maybe, it was Matthew who did the deed.

All she could recall was being thrown into the back of a black vehicle with windows so tinted that bow could only see her own tattered reflection. The smudges of dirt that lined her cheekbone in perfect symmetry to the bruise from her assailant's bare-knuckled punch on the other side. Her clothes slightly torn from the tumbling and clawing of hands and bodies.

From somewhere behind her, Beau heard the sound of a heavy door swinging open. Out of habit, she turned her head to try and face the noise, begging to be able to see so she wasn't taken by any sort of surprise.

Hands rested on her shoulders, causing her to jump slightly, the feel of someone's hot breath on the nape of her neck. The sickly smell of alcohol staining his breath let Beau know that this was Matthew.

"Jay doesn't care about you," he spoke so softly, his voice calm and taunting. "He doesn't know how to love someone - especially someone like you."

Beau clenched her teeth. She hated how he talked to her like he knew her. "You don't know him, he's different, and you definitely don't know me."

Matthew pulled away from Beau quickly and he ripped the blindfold from her head, some of her hair going along with it. She winced from the quick pain shooting across her scalp and allowed her eyes to adjust to the new level of light. Her brown irises following his body as he rounded to face her. He was sweaty and had long since discarded his grey zip-up. Beau caught his murky eyes drinking in her body like she was a piece of meat.

"Well, it's already been two hours and your precious hero that you know so well isn't here." He turned his back on her, as he retreated into the shadows. Beau could hear the clinking of tools and such, and her stomach began doing nervous flips. She'd seen plenty of movies and read plenty of books...Matthew was going to torture her.

LINK TO THE DREAM WALKERS : 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/148488676-the-dream-walkers