The Captive

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The consciousness that abandoned her a few hours ago started to seep back into her entire being. She could hear the whooshing of the wind from outside as well as the constant pattering of the rain on the rooftops.  The smell...it’s a mixture of old papers and damp rotted wood. 

Where am I? What the hell happened to me?

She tried opening her eyes, making tiny slits just for light to pass through but all she could see is darkness. The darkness was almost smothering her. It’s as if there was no oxygen that she can breathe. She wished she didn’t wake up to this darkness. She could feel her huge effort to inhale the air in the room. She put her tied hands to her chest trying to pound on it so she could breathe properly. Her hands are sweaty and unsteady. This isn’t good. I’m starting to have a panic attack. She calmed herself down. If she didn’t, she knew she’d die alone in this dark room and no one’s going to help her.

When she felt she went back to normal respiration, she tried to push herself up to a sitting position. Her hands and feet are tied making her muster all the remaining energy in her body to sit up.

The floor was icy cold and she shivered when she realized she was lying on it all this time. Her stomach grumbled and she forgot how long it has been empty.

Just exactly how long was I out?

When she was not conscious, she was not aware of the pain, hunger and cold. But now that she was wide awake, she could feel every bit of tingling pain in her body. The most obvious of it all is the pain she was feeling on her right lower leg. She wanted to touch it but her hands are bound by a rope and a simple movement gave her a searing pain from her stomach down to her feet. She was so weak. So helpless.

She wanted to examine the wound on her shin when her leg touched drops of...water? Was it water? It must be my blood from this wound. She recognized that the pain on her leg was not just because of the wound but also because of the small tears in the muscles of her anterior shin bone. 

Huh, good thing about being a medical student is you know exactly what’s wrong with you which consequently gives you an idea how to remedy the problem. Unfortunately, I don’t see any medicine kit here, or any single thing for that matter. This darkness makes me feel more helpless than I already am.

What happened to me? She tried recalling what happened but there was none. Nothing she can remember from yesterday. Nothing.

She was still deeply thinking when she heard footsteps on the wooden floor. Stairs. So I must be in the upper floor of this building. Or is this a house?

She was suddenly scared. Fear takes a backseat to the pain she was feeling. But now that the people who kidnapped her were just a wall away from her weak figure, fear took over. It would be best to pretend she was still asleep. When she heard the doorknob being twisted, she made her upper body fall back to the ground. She tried to breathe steadily when she felt two pairs of feet slowly approaching the frail body lying just a few meters away from them.

She heard someone spoke. His voice was gentle yet it was full of anger.

“Didn’t I tell you not to touch her!” From the sound of it, the other man just received a punch of his life.

“Boss, this woman put up a fight. I had to do something to hasten the process,” said the other man, his voice cracked when he spoke.

“If you just did what exactly I told you, you wouldn’t have any problem. Now get out of my sight. And NEVER touch her again or I’ll kill you”, he hissed.

The other man left the room hurriedly, but he left the door open. As soon as his footsteps died down, she tried to open her eyes but the sudden appearance of light was blinding. She pretended to be sleeping, scared of what the “boss” will do to her once he found out she’s actually awake.

She felt the change in the air, as if someone’s blocking the wind from outside of the room. When she tried to open her eyes, she saw his figure slowly crouching. He knelt beside her and reached down to touch her face. She wanted to evade his touch but that will blow up her cover. So she let him. He gently touched her face, tracing her jaw. The sensation could lull her to sleep again. It was so gentle. Who is he? What does he want from me?

He lightly swept the strands of hair from her face. “You’re gonna be okay.”  

She could feel a pair of eyes examining her body, from her face, to her tied hands down to her feet. And then he stopped at her legs and the drops of blood on the floor beneath her wounded leg.

She saw him rubbing his temples before muttering “Damn it!”. She tried to make out the face of the man but all she can see was his figure. The light from outside the room made it obscure. One side of her wanted to just play along and pretend to be sleeping , but the other side of her wanted to just face him head on. Besides, at some point she has to wake up. Pretending to be sleeping all the time will not work.

“Water...please?”, she muttered, her mouth was parched.

As soon as the man heard the voice, she quickly turned his head to the lying figure. “You’ re wounded. You have to fix it to stop it from bleeding. What do you need?”, he said. His tone was rushed, as if he was worried.

“Do I know you?”, she spoke. Her voice was too weak.

The man leaned closely to her, caressing her face. “You need to eat. I will have your food prepared. Okay?”

This voice. I heard this voice before. But where?

“You’re a med student. Tell me what you need to fix your wound,” he spoke again.

She tried to open her mouth but no voice came out. And again, she felt her consciousness leaving her body. The last thing she remembered is a pair of arms on her back... a pleasant smell emitted by the person next to her against the stale scent of the room...and the warmth that drove her back to darkness. She passed out.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 11, 2014 ⏰

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