Vicky had beendriving the car whileLizzy slouchedin the passenger seat, the sun blazing down on her face. It had been the height of summer, the hottest on record so far, and Lizzy had been pleading to go to the beach. Vicky could hardly resist her wishes. Themusic was uphigh, and they had beenlaughing and singing along, when the truck approaching from the opposite direction skewed out of control; its cab swung in one direction and its trailer in the other. Cars brakedand horns were sounding like crazy, followed by an almightycrash.
‘Miss. Miss?’ Vicky opened her grey-blue eyes and looked around. It took her a momentto understand where she was and what was happening. She was in the cabin of the plane travelling to Rome. ‘Miss, the plane just arrived,’ the steward told her.
Her heart was still pounding, her breathing got faster and before she had stepped footoff the plane she rifled through her handbag to drop a Xanax, but her hands were trembling, and it bounced down the stairwell. It was always the same; the dream, the memories, and the panic attack.
This trip was a chance forVicky to relax, to try and forget the pain of losing Lizzy. Nelly, her lifelong friend, put her arm around her.Their party consisted of couples,except for her and her friend Nelly, so they booked a double room for both of them. She’d punished herself with twelve hour shifts, becoming both a workaholicand a recluse, butshe never got over it. Romewas a great opportunity for her to charge her batteries and get back into aroutine. TheFirst day was great; Italian food, walking around, sight-seeing, and the second day was good as well, but on the second night, while she was sleeping, somebodywoke her. She opened her eyes. Three men stood over herwhile Nelly’s snores resonated from the other side of the room.
‘What’s going on?’ Vicky cried.
Two of the three men dragged her from the bed and put a cloth with a weird smell over her nose.
