Perspective

Me, Myself And Big Trouble

"Rise and shine, princess." I heard his low voice speaking to me and when I started to open my eyes, I realized I was in a dark place. There were no lights, only a small fraction of the sun slithering through the window and shining on the cemented floor. There were shelves all around with opened boxes around them.

I looked down and I realized my hands were tightly bound to a wooden chair. I shook my wrists, unable to wiggle out. My head pounded and I struggled to keep my eyes open.

"W... where am I?" I asked groggily.

"No need for you to know that." He replied. The guy who had attacked me was sitting on top of an old broken dresser a few feet away from me. "The only thing you need to be concerned with is telling me where my money is."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I cried out. "Please! You don't understand, I have amnesia, I was in a car accident that almost killed me and I lost my memory! I don't remember who you are!"

"That's a good story but I'm really not in the mood for your bullshit stories, Charly. You've given me excuses before as to why you couldn't pay me but this is one actually is rich."

"It's not a story! Please, please. I really don't remember you." I sobbed. He walked towards me, reaching in his jacket for the gun again and he pulled it out and I screamed. "Please, please, please! Don't hurt me, I don't remember anything!" He pushed the gun towards me, pressing it to my throat as my head tilted upward.

"You're getting better at this, Charly." He told me. I shook my head, closing my eyes and letting tears escape.

"I swear, I'm not lying." I weeped. He pulled a small smile.

"You're lucky I think you're so cute." He growled.

"I don't have any money." I said quickly changing the subject as he lowered his gun.

"Well, isn't that a shame for you. You promised me the money, beginning of November. And guess what? It's not here and I'm not happy." He put the gun back into his jacket and I let out a sigh of relief. "It's going to be a long night, sweetheart." He walked back towards me and he grabbed one of my fingers.

"Wait, what are you- please, don't do this." I begged. I heard a loud snap and I let out a blood curdling scream as the pain shot through my broken finger. "Please stop! I don't have anything!" He pulled away.

"You are a spoiled little brat and I am so sick of your bullshit. Killing you would be a kindess." He spat.

"I don't know what I've done! Please, just tell me what I've done..." I sobbed. He chuckled.

"Okay, if you're going to keep this charade going, you owe me two thousand dollars. For drug dealing for four months. I've been providing you with the best, and what do you have to show for it? Nothing. You told me the beggining of November, you would have the money. I am a dealer, sweetheart and I need the payment up front. For you, I made an acception. Because you were a cute little high school girl looking for a fix once and a while."

"A fix... Did I buy heroin off of you?"

"That's right, sweet cheeks. You knew that. Weed mostly but you liked to shoot up sometimes."

"Oh my god... I'm telling you the truth, I lost my memory. I don't remember anything." I told him with a sniffle.

"Stop fucking lying to me!" He screamed at me. He raised his hand and I felt the sharp sting on my face as he slapped me across my face and my head wrenched back which only made my head hurt worse. I cried out in pain and slowly pulled my head back to look at him. He pulled out his gun from his jacket and pointed it at me.