Four Years Ago

I : Don't You Remember?

Thursday, 2nd March 2023

The first conscious thought Christine had was of the throbbing in her head. It was like her skull was going to explode from the constant and rapid flow of blood through her head. She attempted crying out in pain, but she didn't even have the energy to do so. She felt exhausted beyond description.

   Mustering the little energy she had left, she attempted opening her eyes, but gave up immediately it sent a sharp shock of pain through her head. Didn't anything hurt? She let out a quiet and soft sigh, and attempted to move her body. It was then that she felt the numbness in her limbs and realized that her hands and legs were tied behind her, and she was in a seated position.

   Tears sprung into her eyes as fear took over her and she wondered where she was and why she was here in the first place. She hoped her baby was alright. She didn't want anything to happen to it. Who would want to do this to her despite the state she was in? The person must have a very valid reason for doing so.

   As though the realization of her surroundings had given her more strength, she was now able to open her eyes, though slowly. Groggily, she stared into the dark space that faced her. As far as she could tell, she was in an empty room, save for an old and tattered mattress thrown on the floor, the chair she was tied to, and another against the wall beside what appeared to be the door. The room was dimly lit by a low light fluorescent bulb which was the only source of light. There was a high window at the other side of the room from where Christine was seated, but it was a little far away and too blurred for her to see anything through it.

   Looking around, Christine began to devise methods of escape in case it would have have to come to that. From her present condition, it seemed like the most likely way of her getting back her freedom. The window was too high for her to climb to in her state, and she didn't know where the door led to. Craning her neck, she looked up and saw that the ceiling was smooth, and had no cracks of any sort. Also, it was too far from the ground and she doubted the little chair she occupied or the flat mattress on the floor could be of any help. She would just have to see about negotiations with her kidnapper then.

   Here she was, going ahead of herself, she thought. It might not only be a kidnapping. It could be her friends waiting on the other side of that door to surprise her, or something of that sort. People sometimes did that in the movies, didn't they? However, the events of the past three weeks made her think her first thought was the most probable reality. Whoever it was that had taken their time taunting her had finally had her.

   She tried to think to recollect her last memories before now. At first, it came in isolated flashes and made her head ache. Ruby's voice over the phone. Her driving. A car crash before everything went black. After some concentration, she was finally able to fill in the gaps. Ruby had called her saying she had been attacked on her way to the airport, and Christine had decided to go check on her. However, she hadn't made it to her destination because she had had an accident. From the look of things, it hadn't been an accident after all. She had fallen right into the hands of whoever had been waiting for her.

   As though on cue, the door of the room was opened, and Christine was greeted by the sight of a figure dressed in a plaid shirt several times larger than their frame, and a pair of black baggy trousers. As the person got further in, Christine could tell it was a female. She had her hair down in a scattered manner, and it framed the right side of her face, as though she was hiding something. She closed the door behind her once she had walked in, and dragged the vacant chair that had been leaned beside the door behind her as she walked to Christine. As she got closer, Christine saw that she held a tray and on it was a container of water and plate of food which smelled like it had just been cooked. That, and the smoke that rose from the contents of the plate.