Fight or Die: Ch. 3

Trapped

I tried opening my eyes. I was dizzy and my eyes were blurry. Things were still, and I no longer smelled the stale overwhelming stench of that dreadful trunk.

Things were still, but I still couldn’t make out where I was. I jostled my hands and feet, realizing I had been transported, not free.

“Hello?” I said, in a whisper. It was all I could muster. No answer.

My eyes began to clear – as if the final effects of whatever drug I was given were finally wearing off. I was in a chair. My hands and feet were shackled to the sides. What in the hell was this? What had I done?

Dim light streamed in through dingy curtains covering small windows near the ceiling. The walls were bare and the cement floor was cold beneath me. My clothes were filthy and torn.

Everything was silent.

“Hello?” I screamed a little louder this time. I shook the chair, trying to break free, trying to jostle something loose – but I felt weak.

I peered up at the ceiling – floor panels to the upstairs. Suddenly…footsteps. The footsteps sent dust and dirt raining down on me. Someone was up there, but who? I’m nobody – what would someone want with me.

There was no doubt in my mind that by now…my mom and dad were in a panic and on their way to try to file a missing persons report. But they wouldn’t find me. No one is going to find me.

Whoever is up there…isn’t going to let me go without a fight. I’d been drugged, stuffed in a trunk and now I’m shackled to a chair. This will get worse…unless I can figure a way out.

Next Chapter – Fight or Die Ch. 4