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When I awoke, my eyes were crusted over and my lips were peeling from how dry they were. Trying to sit up was fruitless. My ankle was severely bruised and probably fractured. For some reason, my chest was extremely sore and my breathing was coming out irregularly.
Looking down at my clothes, I realize how dirty and gross I look. And there's something poking at my back, making me uncomfortable.
Looking around, I realized I was in a bedroom. The walls were white, and the setup reminded me of a hospital room. My hands were tied to the bed post by a thin rope, but my feet were free to move.
I tug at the ties on my wrist, dang it. They're not coming off anytime soon. Where am I? Why can't I remember anything? How did I get here?
My head snaps to the door, seeing a petite woman walk in, dressed in a maids uniform. I quickly pretend to be asleep, keeping my eyes slightly open so I can see what she's doing.
The girl, probably no older than 20, walks over to me and places a cold washcloth on my forehead. She then checks on the IV that I hadn't even realized I had in my arm, and takes out a syringe from a cabinet in the corner of the room.
As she goes to place the mysterious liquid in my IV bag, she is interrupted when the door opens, revealing a man with tan skin wearing a suit.
"You're excused Amira. Thank you." He says to the girl, who's name I now know as Amira.
The girl politely bows her head and placed the syringe on the bedside table next to me. She leaves quietly, slowly closing the door. The man hangs his head low, letting out a deep sigh.
He walks towards the bottom of my bed. He pulls a chair at the end, and lays his hand on top of my ankle, making my wince from pain. "I know you're awake Jimin." My eyes fly open.
His grip on my ankle gets deathly tight and he grins up at me. "You're a horrible fake sleeper. How'd you enjoy the nap?"
I struggle to move my leg out of his grip, feeling tears prickle in my eyes from the pain radiating up my leg. "Who are you?! Let me go you sick bastard!"
I watch as the mans brows furrow. A look of confusion ghost over his face. His grip on my ankle disappears and I quickly curl up in myself, protecting my legs from the strange man.
The look on his face changes though from one of confusion to one of even intent. He throws his head back and lets out a loud boisterous laugh.
"Oh this is great haha! Wait wait- what's the last thing you remember?" He quizzes me.
"Um.." I try to think of the last thing I did, but my mind is drawing a blank. "I guess.. walking towards my office building? But why does that matter?! Who are you and why am I tied up?!"
He smirks. "Oh sweet thing.. I'm your worst nightmare." He gives me one last glance before turning towards the door and slamming it shut.
I quickly try to reach my feet above my head to try to untie the ropes that bind my wrist, sending a quick thank you to my mom for making me do gymnastics as a kid, making me as flexible as I am. Wriggling my toes, I mange to untie my hands.
Now free to move my wrist, I rub the red marks and rash that had spread from the rope irritating my bare skin for so long. As I get up from the bed, a loud clank sounds, echoing off the bare walls. Looking down, I realize it was a gun.
I pick it up off the floor, gazing at it confusingly. Where did this come from? Why did I have it tucked into my pants? Checking the waistband if my trousers, I find a folded piece of paper. Sitting back down on the bed, sending a quick glance at the closed door, I unfold the paper.
On it, was a full history report over a man named Min Yoongi. My patient from the prison? Why would I have this? Figuring it held something of importance if I had it tucked away, I read through the whole thing with a gaping mouth.
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What... what is this? I knew Yoongi before him being my patient? How did they get these pictures of me? Hearing the door rattle, I quickly shove the paper back in my pants waist band, along with the mystery gun.
The door opens, revealing the tan man again. When he sees I am out of my restraints, he bathes over to me grabbing my hair and pulling me up to my feet.
"How'd you get out you little shit?! Never mind, let's go. I need to hide you."
He pulls me through the door, leading to a hallway painted black with no pictures on the walls. He turns suddenly, and gives me a dark smile.
"Oops, almost forgot."
He takes his elbow back and drives it to the side of my head, making my vision blurry immediately. On my way down to the floor, the last thing I see is the man who punched me, smiling at me with a evil look in his eyes.
