Cherry Bite

Cherrybite- Miss forbidden 3

Nate <8bite

Stain remover...

...That is what it had smelt like. The cloth.

Like the strong fumes of the liquid she attempted to use once in vain to scrub coffee from a silk blouse. Her nasal seared, her temple pounded, her jaw felt as though a strong hand still gripped it mercilessly tight, smothering her lips with a material that made her eyes tear from fumes and her vision cloud through panicked intakes of air.

Her chest had been heaving, she couldn’t remember ever having to fight for breath, the only way she could begin to describe the feeling was like being underwater just when you needed to breathe again there was that fight for the surface where your heart would thrum wildly in your chest for fear that you might not make it in time. At what point had she realised she wasn’t going to make it...to any surface...this time. Maybe she didn’t realise. It happened so quickly. So unexpectedly. Of course sometimes dreams did surprise you. It was so realistic she supposed she was still in shock for having such a graphic dream.

Nate turned onto her side reaching about for the covers that she usually kicked to the bottom of the bed, when her fingers failed to find any form of quilt she lifted her head drowsily to see the bottom of the bed without covers. Perhaps that was due to it not being her bed. Panic ensued like an ice cube running down her spine.

Nate jerked her head out towards her bedroom, but it wasn’t her bedroom, it wasn’t anywhere she'd seen before. She drew her legs into her stomach staring about like a startled doe. Taking in the four bland walls, the stone floor, the single heavy set door and the vague dripping of water she felt her stomach begin to knot. Felt her limbs start to quiver as Goosebumps plagued her arms.

Wary of the surroundings she rose from the bed realising only now that the mattress was too lumpy to be her own and it smelt musty of sweat, female sweat, there was difference.

Her legs were unsteady, everything pulsed but her head was the worst throbbing as if she'd been cracked in the back of the skull with Julian's baseball bat. Julian. That’s right she had been somewhere- somewhere with him- the goofy comedy he'd been eager to see but then- she could barely recall the plot- couldn’t remember getting up but remembered walking out and he'd been there but he left...something about forgetting his wallet. Nate felt her forehead shakily. She couldn't remember properly.

Finding her way to the door she noticed how dim the room was, how dark and hollow it made her feel, how wrong it smelt, like an absence or spirit. Her hands pawed at the door lightly and Nate tried to see out of a small space that provided the only light in the room and even that casted the room and half her face with a menacing orange glow.

Her eyes were drawn to the bumpy texture of the door and leaning close she saw the specks of blood stained deep into the wood along with the jaggered lines clawing down. Nail marks. Animal...or human. Nate felt frenzy take a hold of her, terror closing around her inner organs like icy tendrils, her heart never ceased it's manic hammering against her rib-cage as she clutched at her jaw with one hand.

The feeling of a strong hand gripping relentlessly tight still taunted her skin, the stagnant fumes of an unknown liquid still stung her nose not from imagination and self trickery. It was real. She really had smelt that awful smell, a hand really had gripped her jaw to the extent she felt it would break and she really had felt like being underwater...

she really hadn’t reached the surface...