Lost in an Unknown World

Chapter 9: Miya October 10th 2016

Today I leave the village. Yes, it's crazy and I don't know how to feel about it. The doctor tried to remove it herself but said that it was too risky as she wasn't experienced enough in these instances. There's one thing that everyone else seems to be missing though.

I'm being tracked. That means that if someone or something is watching me, they'll know if I'm travelling outside the village, as well as where I go from there. I can barely breathe right now, I'm absolutely terrified.

The sun has barely risen before we're on the road. Marlie will be staying with Alec's family for the duration of our stay (that's only if we return), so it will be just mom and me and the taxi driver that will lead us out of the area. Marlie looks distressed- she seems to understand the severity of the situation, even though none of us know the potential danger that could await us. Me specifically.

As terrified as I am, I'm also intrigued. Even this long stretch of road that leads to city is the furthest that I've been from the village, and everything looks different. Fields on either side of us stretch for hundreds of miles, and even the road signs look pretty cool. The discreet hum of the car is making me sleepy, but my adrenaline keeps me awake. I'm honestly surprised that my heart isn't giving out at this rate.

It must have been only an hour before the first gunshot was fired.

"What on earth was that," Mom murmured; her eyes widened with fear.

The driver briefly turned his head to confirm that there was no intimate fear close to us, before stepping up the gas and continuing along. I bury my head in my mom's shoulder, just wishing for everything to stop. The fear, uncertainty, potential death; I'm unsure how to stay strong at this point.

This is where my mind goes blank, because everything happens so fast. I remember the jolting sensation, combined with the feeling that I was a bought of electricity, then nothing. A blank slate.

My eyelids flutter, vision is blurry. Just black. Nothing. I can only hear the murmuring of several different voices, two or three people. I can't quite make out what they're saying, and my head feels fuzzy. I have absolutely no idea what is going on, but I just wish that everything would just pause. These voices, the nothingness; all of it. I close my eyes and will myself to fall asleep.

I awaken in my cozy little room, the water dripping as per usual. I sigh as I realise that I am safe for now, and that everything that I just experienced was one of my nightmares again. I slowly push myself out of bed, pulling back the dusty pink cotton sheets in the process. Unusually, its sunny outside. That's a first since summer. I lean myself up against the window, ready to open it and receive some much-needed fresh air.

I pull away because my arm is covered in paint. Mom never paints. Confused, I walk over to the door so that I can leave to wash this off in the bathroom. I'm sure that I just wasn't listening at some point, maybe, and she'll probably just laugh at my silly mistake.

I twist the handle, the cold metal cooling my warm skin. It won't open.

"Mom, Marlie, are you guys home?"

I'm panicking now, my relentless twisting of the handle is all in vain because it just won't budge. I continue to call out for help, but no one comes. Frustrated by this point, I find a hair pin laying wedged in a corner. Spinning it inside the lock, I'm able to miraculously open it within a matter of seconds.

The wall behind it is concrete. What the hell is going on. The adrenaline is rushing so fast inside of me, that I pick up my makeshift broomstick from Halloween a couple of years ago, and smash it against the window. Shattered glass spills all over the cream coloured carpet, but why would I care about that right now when again, I'm faced with a concrete barrier.

I quickly realise that this is not my room. Someone has placed me in a space identical to my own, with all of my belongings, but I am clearly not at home. I fall on top of my bed, while wrapping myself in the bedsheets, praying that this isn't happening.