Chapitre 1: CHAPTER 0 – PART I
Sometimes it's darker after the dawn...
"Ugghhh..." groaning myself awake, my mouth claggy, thick with aerated spit.
"nnnnnng... my head really fff-ing hurts..."
I roll over into a comfier position and try to blink away the sleep, but am rewarded with some getting caught in my lashes and scraping against the surface of my eye. I bolt upright in bed, rubbing my eyes to get rid of the irritating flakes, then switch to my temples in the hope that some pressure will alleviate the pain. Wait...
My bed?
This isn't my bed.
THIS ISN'T MY ROOM!
WHERE THE HELL AM I?!.
I almost scream, but fear overtakes it, keeping it muffled and locked away in my throat. A whisper of a cry creeps out only. I throw myself back down under the covers as my thoughts spiral. It's so cold. Is the heating off? I have blankets and clothes on, though, so am I just cold? How can my body be this cold with so many layers?
It's pitch black, too. I couldn't make out a lamp. I don't want to look again, not yet.
. . .
Fine.
I lift the covers just enough to glance around the room. Nothing stirs. I poke my head out bit by bit until it's completely uncovered. Still holding my breath. My eyes, filled with static and vignetted by the throbbing in my skull, slowly adjust to the dark. The room eventually fades into the usual ghostly low resolution everything takes on in the dead of night. It's plain. A small desk with nothing on top, its chair tipped over, are opposite to where I'm lying. The single bed I'm huddled in is up against the far corner away from the door. There's a window above my head. If the curtains were open, it would let a rectangle of light in that would fill the gap between the bed and desk, illuminating the middle of the room on the floor like an aisle at a supermarket. I suppose that would make the chair something like an abandoned shopping trolley that's crashed against a set of shelves. If it were light outside enough to see, that is.
I think it's just before dawn, maybe? The night must be at it's coldest, the land hasn't started warming up yet.
There's no light out there at all. Not even a street light. Just reflected starlight. Nothing direct. No idea about clouds, but maybe not from how cold it is. Definitely no moon. No point in opening the curtains either, it'll just get colder. There's nothing out there to be let in that could help me see better, and only heat to be lost from in here. My head is really aching. Light might hurt my eyes at the moment anyway. Did I fall over, or get hit by something, or what?
Am I in hospital? No. There would at least be a lamp. The bed would be different. My mother would be by my bedside to make sure she's there when I wake up. There'd be blinking lights and beeping machines and wires and tubes and all that... But, this isn't MY room either, so where am I?
If there're no street lights, then am I in the countryside? I mean, I do live in a small town, but it's not that rural. We're not a total no-name village. There should at least be a porch or security light out there, or something. It would be noisier if I were in the city, though. All night traffic, police sirens, that sort of thing. "Hmmmmm..." I half sigh, half groan. All this thinking isn't doing my head any good, but still...
I try to recall what happened to me the day before. Nothing.
I try to remember anything from the past week. A blank.
Well, not entirely.
I have a faint feeling that I'd just finished school for the term. Yeah... that seems about right. I don't think I was stressed out about anything, so we must have just had exams, or at least no homework to worry about yet. Were we about to go on summer vacation, or something? Maybe? It feels right that we were actually going on holiday for a change this year... SUMMER!!!
"HOW IS IT... so cold then?!." actually shouting out of confusion and frustration, at first, but tapering off quickly as the fear floods back. I stay as silent and still as possible, for as long as I can bear, staring into the darkness, straining my ears at the silence, trying to see or hear anything. Still nothing.
"Phew..." I finally exhale and feel a little less anxious, though no less scared. Wouldn't want to wake anyone, especially when I don't know where I am, or who might be out there.
We can't be at the hotel already, can we? I mean, this doesn't look like much of a room. My family isn't rich, but we're not this poor. And, where are my things? My bag should be here at the very least. I can't work out a cupboard in here, so I've not put stuff away. It might be under the bed, but I never do that usually. "Hmm..."
I continue racking my brain for a while until the pulsing pain in my skull picks up again, so I have to lie back and press a fist against my forehead to get a little relief. I could really do with some painkillers and water. I stretch my arm out to try and find anything under the bed, but there's nothing, so I stare hard into the dark to try to work out anything else in the room. A bin. Tucked just behind the side of the desk. That's it.
I go to sit up, but my head spins, and I fall straight back onto the pillow. I nearly puke from dizziness and pain, and have to crouch on the bed to get enough air to calm my stomach and make the room stop spinning. Did I take too many travel sickness pills? AM I OVERDOSING?!.
A couple of deep breaths later and I have a level head again. No. I can't be overdosing. I'd never take enough for that, and my parents would have stopped me from being silly with them anyway. Wait, what's it called when you take a few different things that on their own are safe, but together they can be dangerous? A cocktail? No. Cocktail effect! Could I have taken something else? Maybe a painkiller if I'd hit my head, or a sleeping pill if I was getting bored and tired and wanted to nap the rest of the way... I don't know, I can't remember.
"Ugh!" I retch from the pain swelling up in my head from thinking too much too fast. I really need to keep my nerves in check, but the thoughts keep coming...
HAVE I BEEN KIDNAPPED?!.
The terror, pushed aside again and again by pain and questions and anxiety, returns tenfold. I'VE BEEN KIDNAPPED! BY WHO? FOR WHAT REASON? WHERE AM I THEN? HOW DO I GET OUT? HOW DO I GET HOME? HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN UNCONSCIOUS?
In full panic mode, I curl up under the sheets, blankets, duvet... so many layers, and all clean. The scent of fresh laundry is unmistakable, but it's not the cleaning products I'm used to. It's not the fabrics I'm used to, either. Everything feels a little coarse. Makes sense. Why would you give good bedding to someone you're holding for ransom, or selling to traffickers, or... WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING?!.
MY PARENTS ARE NOBODIES! THEY CAN'T AFFORD TO PAY A RANSOM!
Mom's a house-wife with a part-time job as a cleaner, and Dad's a low-end manager at some local transport company. I don't know about savings, but I think they own the house and car. Maybe they could sell one of those and that'd be enough to buy me back? God, I think I'm gonna cry... "hiccc-"
The tears break fast and bitter. No sweetness to them, no relief, just pure misery and desperation, bordering on hysteria. I curl up tighter, hugging my knees to my chest, sobbing into the misshapen bulge of material caused by my clothes pushing up between my thighs and stomach.
"I wanna go home, I wanna go home, I wanna go home..."
After a while the tears stop. My chest still heaving inragged breathes. At least I have the sobbing and whimpering undercontrol. My head aches with the added tension of a crying fit, on topof whatever has been making it hurt already. Why does it still hurt?If I've been kidnapped they must have knocked me out. I hope I don'thave a concussion. Having been unconscious for so long can't havebeen good for me if they did. Maybe it's just the side effect of adrug, like my sleeping pills, or that chloroform stuff, or something.That'd explain it. Hence the cocktail effect with my travel sicknessmeds.
I eventually stick my head out from under the covers again, but still can't really tell if there's any change in the light levels outside. The curtains must be pretty heavy duty. But, they wouldn't just have curtains up if I'm being held captive, right? They must have painted or newspapered over the window to stop anyone from seeing in. It could be any time of day, and I'd never be able to tell. What do I do?!.
I really don't want to get their attention. I'm sure there'll be a guard nearby to stop me leaving or beat me up if I try to escape. I don't think I could fight or run right now anyway. But, I would like to know if someone is there. I can't hear anyone moving about. I can't even hear any breathing or snoring from kidnappers, or crying from other hostages, so maybe I'm locked up so secure they don't even need to watch me. That or they're real pros and can stay super quiet no matter what... I shouldn't be praising them for that, should I?
I lie still for a while, controlling my breathing as best I can. The spikes of adrenaline from the repeated switches between fear and anxiety seem to have dropped off after crying. I guess that worked out all the emotions for me, huh! I'm actually feeling tired. Maybe I could nap a little more?
No. I shouldn't. I should stay awake in case anyone comes for me.
What the hell am I going to do if someone does? My head hurts and I'm exhausted! And, what if they have a weapon?!.
Dejectedly, I reach up to the curtain. It's as rough feeling as everything else. It really is a heavy material, though, like I thought. I lift the edge just a little. The sky is thick and black.
"Clouds." I mumble to myself.
At least the window isn't boarded, or whatever, so I'll be able to tell when it's morning.
Maybe there's no heating here after all. But, if it's summer, they wouldn't need it anyway. I must be cold from hunger, or sleeping in clothes I've been wearing for ages, or if it's an abandoned building it'll have a chill on the bricks and stuff from damp or something. I don't know...
I try to fight my fatigue, but sleep takes hold of me again.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone 
Commentaire de paragraphe