Changed Direction

Changed Direction Part 7

Chapter 7: Emilia

It is dark. Pitch-black, to be exact. I can't see anything. I have no idea where I am.

My head is pounding, dull pain ebbing and flowing, spreading down from my face to my spine and lower. Why do I feel so tired? I try moving my hands to feel my surroundings, but they are tied together with rope. The rope is tied so tightly it's scratching my skin roughly, but I can't figure out how to untie it. I try stretching, and it feels like my legs are tied together as well. What is going on? Where am I? What happened?

I blink slowly, trying to pull myself awake and out of the grogginess that is clouding my mind. Wherever I am, it's comfortable at least. I am laying on something soft. I slowly turn on to my side so my fingers knead the bedding slowly. It feels like a blanket, soft, thick, and plush. My head is resting on a thick foam pillow. I must have been placed here by someone. It feels like I am in a bed. A blanket that feels like fleece is draped over me. If my hands weren't tied together and there wasn't a piece of duct tape over my mouth, I might be comfortable. What on earth is going on? Who had put me here?

I am in something that is moving. I can tell that by the way I am shifting without trying to move. Maybe I am in a car. That would make sense. A car that is driving on a road. I must have been placed in the trunk. That would explain why it is so dark. I furrow my brow worriedly. Is it safe to be locked in a trunk? Is there enough oxygen? Am I going to die in here?

That doesn't seem quite right. Whoever had put me in the trunk had obviously tried to make it comfortable. If I am meant to die they wouldn't have bothered. So why am I here? I had been abducted, that much I can put together, but I can't remember what led to this. I remember being at the concert hall. I sang, I met fans, but what had happened after that?

It hurts to think. My head is still stuck in a fog. Trying to figure out what is going on will get me nowhere right now. There is nothing I can do at this point. I am not going to try to get out of the trunk when we could be careening down a highway. That would probably do more harm. Besides, with my hands tied up I can't try and open the trunk. I am stuck in here until whoever took me decides to move me somewhere else. For now, I am just going to have to stay here and hope that whoever has taken me isn't going to hurt me. Hopefully once I feel better and my mind is clearer I can get some answers and figure out how to escape this mess. At the moment, however, I am just too tired to think. There is nothing that can be done now, so I might as well just drift back to sleep...

Bright lights jerk me awake. The trunk is now open, a nearby streetlight shining into the formerly dark space. I blink quickly so I can adjust to the light, but my head is still throbbing and I am still just as tired as I was before. The light only makes my head hurt worse.

A figure pulls the fleece blanket off me, folding it quickly. Now I am exposed to the cool autumn night air, goose bumps forming on my skin. I am wearing a short dress- the one I'd worn during the concert- and without that blanket to cover me I suddenly feel very cold.

"I need you to stay still for a moment so I can pick you up," the figure murmurs softly.

I narrow my eyes, trying to focus on the figure's face. His head is tilted slightly, green eyes dark with worry. Ethan? He had brought me here? Now I am more confused than ever. Memories suddenly come rushing back and I remember meeting him at the concert and going to Waffle Hut with him, but I can't remember anything after that. I had begun to feel tired while drinking my coffee, and that's the last thing I remember. Had he kidnapped me instead of taking me back to the concert hall? Why on earth would he do that? He was so nice!

Confusion aside, I don't know what else to do other than what he asked. I still feel terrible, like my head might explode. My arms and legs are tied, so it's not like I can run. I certainly am not fit to be running away right now. All I want at this moment is to be warm and allowed to fall back to sleep. I decide that anything else could wait until morning.

I try pushing myself into a sitting position so Ethan can lift me, but my body does not cooperate. My muscles are still too relaxed and I can't move. My body feels like a deadweight. What on earth had he given me? Ethan slides his arms underneath me and hoists me out of the trunk, gently pressing me up against him. Carefully, he is able to shut his trunk without dropping me. I yawn tiredly, laying my head against his chest. I just want to sleep. I might as well shut my eyes for now.

I am almost back to sleep when Ethan shifts me slightly. He is trying to open a door in a brightly-lit hallway. He must be in an apartment complex. Pushing the door open, dim light ominously illuminates what appears to be a living room. I don't study it too closely- my eyes are barely open. Ethan shuts the door after entering the apartment and quietly flicks the switch on a lamp sitting on a coffee table, enrobing the room in darkness. I close my eyes again.

Ethan is laying me on something soft. I blink slowly, trying to figure out where I am. It is too dark to tell. It feels like I am sitting on a cushion, but I'm not sure. Ethan props me up in a sitting position, my back resting against something that feels like a pillow. He then spreads a thick blanket, tucking it tightly around me.

"Get some sleep now," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. "You'll feel better in the morning.

He doesn't have to tell me twice. Staying awake is the last thing on my mind. I have no idea what kind of drug he must have used to knock me out, but whatever it was took away all my strength and energy. All I want is to get some sleep. If I feel better in the morning, then I would question him and figure out what exactly he means to do to me. Well, I'll question him if he removes the duct tape. He had seemed so nice earlier. Was that all a scam? What if he means to torture me? Murder me? Keep me prisoner for some sort of sick game? I wonder if years from now my story would end up on one of those crime shows that are always playing on TV. I have watched so many of those shows I could be sure this is not going to end well. Those abduction episodes never end on a happy note. This is probably the end for me.

I could try and escape, of course. That would rely on him not drugging me again. If he keeps me sedated I have no chance. If I'm sedated then I won't be able to work on figuring out how to free myself from the ropes. Hopefully that isn't his plan. I could try to get out of here as soon as I feel better. Maybe Ethan's not one of those psychopathic monsters who delight in hurting others. Maybe he's just a crazy fan who wants to keep me close, but not actually hurt me. If that is the case, then there is a chance I can convince him to let me go. The most important thing I can do now, though, is get some rest so I actually have a chance at figuring out what to do. I don't think I am in danger tonight, so I decide I am safe to fall asleep. Shifting down onto the cushion below me, I settle under the blanket and lay my head on the pillow. I would feel better in the morning, and that would be the first step toward getting out of here.