House Bound

Chapter 1 - Waking Up

       I came to groggily, feeling slow and disoriented.

       Had I drunk something at the party after all? I doubted it, I hated the idea of alcohol and would never willingly seek it out. Maybe someone slipped something in my water earlier? At that thought a thread of panic slipped into my awareness, brushing away a little of the weariness.

       As my eyelids cracked open light pierced straight through to my skull, igniting a fierce ache throughout my head. I quickly squinted my eyes, fighting against the feeling of razor blades digging through my brain. It was daylight, that much I could tell.

       My panic grew - hours must have passed since I'd fallen asleep. I was so dead. This time she'd kill me for sure. This couldn't be happening. I couldn't believe I'd allowed this to happen.

       My hands curled into fists, nails digging in as I slammed my hands against the ground like a petulant child. The pain distracted momentarily from my headache, clearing my mind enough to realise that I'd been pounding against hardwood floors. Not the carpeted floor of the bedroom I'd fallen asleep in.

       I shot up straight into a sitting position, but a rolling swell of nausea had me landing back on the floor just as quickly into a crumpled ball of misery.

       My eyes had adjusted enough to register a massive east facing window that was allowing the bright morning sun to filter in. Shadows fell across the floorboards where thick metal bars ran over the window, and I managed to shuffle myself just enough to shade my eyes. This was definitely not a room in Rocky's house.

       If it weren't for the room being so utterly immaculate - from the flawless finish of the paint, or the entirely unscathed timber floor that seemed as though no one had ever dared walk on it, to the gorgeous features in the cornices and carved woodwork surrounding the door frames - I would think this place were a prison. Though the thought of being trapped was frightening, I was more concerned by how weak I felt. The slightest movement began an agonised symphony that strung up a chaotic chorus of aches and pains.

       Time blurred as I lay there, fighting against the blind panic that was overwhelming my thoughts. The glare from the sun faded as it slowly rose over the house, and eventually my breathing had evened out, my headache fading to a dull pounding. My brain relentlessly sputtering out the same morbid mantra: she's really going to kill you this time.

       My skin was dewy with sweat, my whole body feeling itchy and unclean as though I'd been lying here for days. The stiffness in my joints made it feel like it could have been weeks. My mouth was so parched that my tongue stuck slightly to my lips as I tried to wet them, opening my mouth wide just to breathe deeply enough to feel alive. I was finally contemplating trying to get up again when something creaked upstairs, directly over my head.

       I froze, barely daring to draw a breath as I listened, though my body burned in protest as though it were being starved of oxygen. Other sounds came from above, and when I listened harder, from below as well. I wasn't naive enough to pretend it was only the house settling. Something was here with me.

       A scream shattered the silence, the feminine voice breaking halfway through, startling a strangled squeak out of me. It was followed soon after by another scream, a different voice this time, both from upstairs.

       I rolled onto my stomach, pushing slowly up to my feet. I fought against the dizziness that wanted to send me toppling back to the floor and staggered to the door, still unsure if I was preparing myself to fight or to run for my life.