❝ sorry can't save me now, sorry i don't know how ❞
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͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
DORTHY AWOKE WITH A gasp and a splitting headache. The brunette was disoriented, she couldn't tell where she was. A sharp pain stung the skin above her eyebrow, and when she reached to touch the angry red wound she found that she couldn't. With a few more tugs Dorthy finally looked down, only to find brown leather cuffs strapping her down.
That's when she realized, she could see the color brown, the peach color of her skin, the beige clothes she was wearing, and the redness of her wrists.
"Aunt Em?" She called out, her voice hoarse from lack of hydration. "Uncle Henry?"
When no reply came, Dorthy began to wriggle her hands, pulling her arms up and down harshly, a wince falling from her cracked lips at how sore her wrists already were.
Dorthy, realizing she could see the ugly beige color of the walls around her, assumed she wasn't in black and white Kansas anymore.
"No, no, no, no." She cried, pulling on her restraints even harder.
"Aunt Em! Uncle Henry!" She screamed, hot tears running down her cheeks, stiffly blowing her bangs out of her eyes.
"Help me!" She cried, pulling and pulling her wrists and feet in her binds until they began to bleed.
Suddenly, the door to her room, which reminded Dorthy all too much of a cell, opened, a man with quite a bit of facial hair walked in, a sly smirk plastered on his smug face.
"No one can hear you," as he looked her up and down, twirling a set of keys in between his fingers, a look of disgust found his aging features, "God, you're crazier than a Betsy bug."
"Where am I?" Dorthy stuttered, trying her best to sink into the moldy cotton they called a bed, not liking how the man in front of her looked down at her.
"Don't play this game with me, I ain't got the patience today. Boss man is on my ass about how you keep cuttin' up your skin." The man spat, the skin around his eyes bunched up as he laid his gaze upon the dripping blood on her unusually pale skin.
"You gotta be shittin' me." He mumbled under his breath, also noticing the growing bruise on her forehead. "I'm not gettin' paid enough for this." And with that he walked out, locking the door that held her inside.
"No, wait." Dorthy grasped at the air. "Ahhh." She nearly screamed, pulling her wrists once again.
"Help." She cried again, curling her body towards the wall as best she could. "I wanna go home." She sobbed.
Dorthy was no longer in Kansas, and she certainly wasn't in Oz.
