Nightingale

sixteen

Dazed and confused.

This is how I woke up feeling. Lying on a freezing cement floor in a pitch black room. All I remember is looking for Callie, the rest is blurred. Where the hell am I?

I try to stand up but my body is still debilitated. I know I didn't drink enough to black out and I know I didn't get high. I feel around me to see if I can feel my bag anywhere but I don't. I need to get out of here.

I manage to crawl around feeling around me in the dark space until I feel a wall. I drag my hand along the wall in hopes to find a door of some sort. Once I feel a different texture from the wall I've been dragging my hand on I sit on my knees and pound on the door.

"Can anyone hear me? I need help!" I scream as loud as I can and continue to pound on the door. I reach up to grab the handle but there is none.

"Hello! Somebody help me!" I pound hard on the door until I've exhausted most of my energy. I slump onto the floor in front of the door and try to calm my breathing.

I have no phone. I have no idea where I am. I don't know how long I've been out or how long I've been locked in here. I pull my knees up to lay into the fetal position to try and warm myself. When I feel my bare nipples hit my knees is when I realize I have no clothes. I dive into my brain to try and recall everything that happened last night. At least what I'm assuming to be last night.

The dance floor is all I can remember. I want to cry but I refuse to let a single tear slip from my eyes. If I cry that means I'm giving up. I force my weak body up again to pound on the door.

"Fucking open the door!"

I hear a click and a push myself back a bit. The door opens and a small amount of light fills into the room. I have to shut my eyes due to the sudden brightness. When a large hand wraps around my neck I shoot my eyes open, clawing and kicking at the man in front of me.

"Shut the fuck up!" The man says and strikes me across the face. He then climbs on top of me pinning me down on my back but that doesn't stop me from putting up a fight. I continue to squirm around and attempt to push him off but he's twice my size.

I see him pull out a syringe from his back pocket and he pulls the cap off with his teeth. When I try to knock it out of his hand he pushes my arms back down and pins them down with his knees.

"Somebody help me!" I scream and continue to try and break free but it's no use. The man sticks the needle into my arm and pushes the clear liquid into my body. He stands up and I take this as my opportunity to try and slide past him out the door but again, my body is too weak.

The small amount of light dissipates as he closes the door behind him and locks it. I put 2 and 2 together and realize he just drugged me and I was most likely roofied at the club. I don't want to think about why I don't have my clothes but I'm not stupid. Now I let myself cry. For now I am giving up until I can come up with a plan. I begin to feel woozy so I close my crying eyes and let the drug induced coma overcome me.

When I wake up for a second time there's now a light on in the room. I have to repeatedly blink my eyes to try and adjust them. I sit up a bit and look around the room. It's empty. There's a metal plate in front of the door with 2 pieces of white bread and a plastic cup of water. I really should eat but I really don't want to. I'm scared that the guy may have tainted it somehow. Instead I take this time to inspect my body. If I was taken advantage of there would be some sort of evidence.

I don't see anything to worry about minus the multiple punctures all over my stomach and arms. How long have they been injecting me with shit? My hands are a little beat up but I'm ruling that out since I'm pretty sure that was from me pounding on the door. I hear the sound of footsteps near the door. Push myself closer to it and debate pound on it again but I also don't want to be drugged again.