They Know Me

FOLLOWING FEAR

As I gradually regained consciousness, my eyes slowly opened. They burned and my vision was blurred. Even though I couldn't see clearly, I could feel the hard floor beneath me. A quiet involuntary groan escaped my throat as I shifted slightly to help alleviate my discomfort, but it only made everything ache more, so I stopped. Trying to sort through my muddled mind, at first I couldn't think straight; trying to recollect what had happened, and how I'd gotten to wherever I was. Then, I remembered ... I'd gone to Cortland Bridge. What had followed was spookiness, laughter from an invisible person, and then pain.

Woozy sluggishness changed into desperation. Unsure if I was still at the bridge, I listened intently to try and hear if I was alone, or if the person who'd attacked me had returned and was quietly watching, invisible in some a dark corner. I blinked rapidly and repeatedly to try and clear away the maddening, impairing haziness so I could see. But after a few moments had passed, and I'd heard nothing except the noises I'd made, and hadn't been hit again, I decided that I was alone.

Knowing that the insane person who got his kicks out of hurting people inside the bridge could return soon, I slowly started to sit up. The moment I did, I regretted doing it; my head began to throb like a drumstick was banging against my skull. Wishing I was someplace where I could just lie back and wait until the pain was gone, I struggled to move again. I'd almost sat up completely when I heard the soft, but unexpected voice of a man next to me. "Don't move. You're not ready."

I faltered and fell back, wincing when I met the hard surface underneath me. I cried out, "Don't hurt me! I'm sorry for coming in here. Let me leave. I promise not to come back!"

"I won't hurt you, but you shouldn't have been here, at all."

His voice ... it was different from before; not menacing or cruel. He even sounded nervous – but that didn't mean he wouldn't hurt me again. Fighting to keep control over my fear, I tried to see his face without letting him know.

Close to me, and with a French accent, another man murmured kindly, "You were brave tonight."

Caught off-guard, I quickly turned my head to my left, and was immediately sorry.

As irrational as it was, tired of being hurt and afraid, my pain slowly started to turn to anger. My injury had made it so I was unable to defend myself, a situation I hated, and though I was forced to lie still, and in pain, I was determined to get away from there, from them, as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Occupied by my thoughts, I didn't notice right away that they'd both fallen silent. But even as quiet as they were, I wasn't fooled into thinking they were gone. I could sense their closeness. Again, I tried to see them. Then, a cloudy, wavering image appeared before me and I locked my blurred eyes onto it. The man with the accent said softly, "Do not attempt sight." After a brief pause, he added, "Trust me, chere, even if you could, you are not prepared for what you would behold."

Though his voice was reassuring, almost soothing, I didn't know that he wasn't the one who'd attacked me, changing the tone so I wouldn't know it was him, and he could toy with me before the torture started again. Hating how my voice trembled, I whispered, "My name isn't Chere."

In his careful French accent, he replied, "It is not a name. It is a term."

"Who are you?"

"I am the one who found you." I heard him move away from me. "You will soon be better. Your eyesight will be restored, and you will be free to leave – unharmed."

Not liking his answer, I hesitantly asked, "Leave? Leave where?"

"A place of safety, close to your home. You will recognize where you are."

My home ...? I wanted to scream at him not to use 'nice' words that cloaked a sinister meaning, but not knowing how he would react, I instead stuttered in a whisper, "How do you know where I live?"

"I have watched you."

I moved – but my attempt to get away from him was too fast and the pain was wracking. Forced to stop, I lay back. But refusing to give up totally, I clumsily started to move again. Just then, the scent of lavender passed over my face and, without a touch to make it happen, my head turned to follow until my eyes were skyward and my body went limp. Then, the scent was gone. No one moved, not even me. I couldn't, even though I wasn't tied down. Somehow immobilized, I lay there staring upward, made to watch as tiny, twinkling, blurry lights, that seemed to come from everywhere, began to gather over me until they formed a cluster. For a few seconds, they floated. But then, simultaneously, they blazed brightly – and I could feel something soft and ticklish, like feathers, rain down gently onto my face.

Whatever they were trying to do, it hadn't worked. I wasn't soothed. Unable to make my arms move to reach up to brush it away, I began to panic.

Caught off guard by a woman's voice murmuring something barely above a whisper into my right ear, I fought against invisible restraints to get away from her. But slowly, I began to feel drowsy and physically exhausted. Gradually giving up my struggle, I listened to words I couldn't understand. I began to feel strange, and started to imagine that I could 'feel' her words, that everything she murmured turned into warm, gentle ripples of water that traveled the length of my body.

Aware that I was unwillingly becoming sedated, my arms and legs wouldn't cooperate and move when my increasingly groggy mind told them to. Feeling myself continuing to slip further into being compelled to relax, it became very clear that my fear wouldn't be enough to overcome whatever she'd done to me. In the same calm voice, she whispered, "Relax, child."

My eyes began to grow heavy, and despite how hard I fought against closing them, the familiar tug of sleep was too powerful and I began to drift.

With the tiny bit of stubborn resolve I still had, afraid of the stranger whose intentions I didn't know, I forced my eyes to open in a last, desperate attempt to see their faces.

Emerald eyes, surrounded by silvery centers, gazed back at me through the darkness.

No longer able to keep it from happening, my lids shuttered and closed.