I opened my eyes, waiting to hear the familiar tick-tick of my bedside clock, ringing in alarm to awake me for yet another day. Unfortunately, there was none.
Then slowly, like pieces of broken glass falling down on the ground, the memories of last night engulfed my brain.
Everything-from the bad dreams, the glass of water, the needle, the fainting, the kidnapping, the torture, the rape-came back to me in one split second.
l closed my eyes, fighting back sobs. So it really did happen then, I thought. I really did get kidnapped.
This isn't a nightmare. not going to wake up Masking together every bit of my courage, l looked around at my surroundings, hoping to catch sight of anything that could help me escape. It was a normal sized room, with bare walls and a simple light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
The windows were blocked, letting not even the tiniest bit of sunlight enter the room. The door was closed too, immediately shattering my plans of escape.
I looked down at myself, my whole body feeling as though it had been hit by a truck.
I was wearing a simple, white nightgown, with bruises covering every inch of my body. My arms were tied behind my back, and l was sure that even the tiniest bit of movement would send agony down my spine.
Suddenly remembering something, I looked up to my shoulder and suppressed a shudder.
Sure enough, a tattoo in black ink gazed up at me. Its meaning filling my mouth with disgust.
Property of Jason McCann, it said.