I came to my consciousness and had no idea where I was. My body seemed slow and sluggish, totally uncooperative. Thoughts raced through my mind, each more terrifying than the last. Where was I? The surroundings smelt revolting and reminded me of blood and death. Was this some sort of torture room then? I could imagine it so clearly: a rusty little stool with ropes hanging around, a table with an assortment of knives and needles, blood and gore spilt on the floor staining everything with its darkness. And a mangled corpse of course, still bleeding from a hundred different wounds. Entertaining, really, except it was just horrifying that I would be subjected to it. I felt like there was a thick blanket over me, muffling the rest of the world and disorienting it; I try pinching myself and barely feel it. My body feels calm and slow, but it contradicts my mind throwing chaotic thoughts at me and my heart thundering at such a fast pace. I feel trapped in myself.
A sudden chill set over me. Goose prickles dotted my skin, and I realized that I was there, bare skinned. How many people had seen me like that? Had they done something to me? Why did I not remember anything? I somehow willed myself into moving a little, only to realize that I'm strapped to some table around my middle, and I could only flop around on my back. I was truly trapped somewhere, stuck to a table and at the mercy of whoever walked in.
A sudden rush of adrenaline had me grabbing for anything. My last desperate effort of escaping pushed a lot of things off the table in a noisy metallic clang. So, there were knives here...maybe they were going to operate me and sell me off in bits. I wondered if I'd unwittingly summoned someone with all the noise the knives made. My hand made contact with a shallow jar and managed to knock that over too. Something soft fell from it and before I knew it, my fumbling hands had squished one of the soft objects. Ew. My clumsiness awoke a dull pain behind my eyes; maybe some pain killer was wearing off. The pain behind my eyes got worse, until it’s all I could feel. Raising my hand to massage my forehead, I realized that I hadn't seen anything. I'd been depending on my other senses and imagination. Why was I not seeing? My hands desperately tried to find my eyes but I only found pain. There’s a strange hollowness too. I heard slow creaks from somewhere close, then footsteps. Only when I heard the bang of a door being opened did I realize that my eyes had been plucked and my eyelids sewn shut. And I might’ve screamed when I realized that the object I’d squished was one of my eyes, except my mouth was sewn shut and I was utterly helpless.
~VN
Comments