Bimbo

♡

4:36 am

You lay in your plush bed, eyes glued to your phone as you read some sloppily written 'Mean Girls' Wattpad knockoff. It was cliche and held many problematic themes. There was the 'not like other girls' main character phenomenon, the girl who thought dressing modestly and reading was unique. You mentally cringed and turned your phone off, the exhaustion hitting you. The effects of staying up so late on a device kicked in, headache, back pain, eye irritation, and exhaustion. You sighed, wishing your sleep schedule wasn't so f'd up. You curled up into your heavy blankets, so out of it like the blinding light coming from your phone that illuminated your room was nothing but an afterthought. 

7:00 am

You gasped, waking up drenched in sweat. The alarm clock screeched, yelling at you to wake up. The sound almost made your ears bleed from the pressure. Your arms flailed around, searching for the culprit. Your hand came crashing down on the alarm clock, turning it off. Your eyes closed, and you took a moment to catch your breath and steady yourself. 

Pause. 

I don't have an alarm clock. And my bed isn't this big. This isn't my damn room!? What happened last night? 

You whimpered, standing up. You took the blankets with you. Your fight-or-flight kicked in, and you were in a dazed state of confusion. You couldn't steady your breathing, you felt on the brim of a panic attack. You felt the panic and terror consuming you and swallowing your being whole. You didn't recognize this room, had you been kidnapped? Was it an oddly realistic nightmare? Tears welled up in your eyes, the thought of being kidnapped has always been one of your biggest fears. 

You tip-toed around the room, not wanting to alert whoever was in the house, your kidnapper that you had woken up, even though the alarm clock was most likely confirmation. You studied the room, making a mental note of all of the details. You needed something to describe to authorities. The room was girly and looked quite luxurious, it was rather large and looked like a typical rich Disney channel daddies girl room. Pink was plastered everywhere. Now, pink was your favorite color, so it was quite pleasing to the eye. Though, it would've been better if you weren't in a stranger's home, with no idea how far away you were from home. Were you even in San Francisco anymore? 

You looked down, feeling more like a breeze. Oh, HELL no. Someone had changed your clothes. Someone had kidnapped you, took you to their home, and changed your clothes. Was this the work of some sick rich pedophile? Because you were freshly 15 and didn't own any damn-near transparent pink night lingerie. Your face contorted into that of disgust. 

You were no rookie, you watched your fair share of true crime and knew that being a sitting duck made you an easy target. No way in hell was this motherfucker gonna catch you alive. Trying to flee in lingerie wasn't very tasteful, so you searched for anything to cover up with. The closet contained many revealing teenage and young adult clothes, this room must have belonged to someone else. You skimmed the closet, still in fight-or-flight mode. You snatched a pair of sheer shorts and the biggest jacket you could find, which was a little tight-in-all-the-wrong-places pink jumpsuit top. 

Knock knock knock 

Shit! 

A knock on the door. Your eyes widened, there was most likely a middle-aged perv out there! You mentally battled yourself, 'Do I open it? Or do I hide?' Sadly, your internal monologue was deemed useless as the mystery figure entered. 

"Honey? Honey, I'm back from Milan! Where you at, sweetheart- God, blankets on the ground like a damn animal.." 

Okay, so it was a woman. You could take that bitch, no doubt. You were athletic and mostly fit. You grabbed the first item to your left, a wire hanger, and crept out of the closet, shaking. The woman spotted you and smiled, jogging up to you. 

"Back up! Get the fuck away from me, bitch."

You warned, getting into a fighting stance. What, did this woman think she was your mother now? Her face fell, and her face twisted into an angry scowl.

"Just who do you think you are talking to your mother like that? I told your ass, you couldn't come to Milan with me. Don't catch an attitude with me. I'm warning you."

Your eyes widened, but you remained on guard. 

"Who are you?! Who's house is this?! Tell me, my God- I'll kill you!" 

The woman shook her head, rolling her eyes. She stomped over to where you stood, her shoulder-length silk press bouncing with each step. She manhandled you to the bathroom. And she was shockingly strong for her height. You thrashed in her grip, kicking and screaming. She shoved you onto the bathroom tile, getting in your face.

"I'm tired of this shit! Get ready for school, I just came back and THIS is how I get treated?! Tuh!"

She yelled in a shrill voice, a little crazy in her eyes. You recoiled, tears threatening to fall. She repeated herself, demanding that you get ready for your first day as a junior. 'Well, if it'll keep me alive..'