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My head felt as though someone had taken a baseball bat to it, cracked it wide open, and then stuffed it full of cotton.
My eyelids felt like they weighed five hundred pounds each and they were far too heavy for little ole me to lift open.
My throat felt as though I had been swallowing razor blades coated in bleach.
And, even though I could feel the hum of pain covering almost every inch of my body, I felt slightly disconnected to everything but my throbbing head.
Was I sick?
Did I have the flu or something?
Where was Finn and why, when I opened my mouth to call out to him, wouldn’t the words come out of me?
I attempted to roll over onto my side and reached for my head. My arms wouldn’t move and the familiar sound of chains rattling sent chills down my spine.
Fuck.
No.
Not again.
This could not be happening to me again.
I opened my eyes and, although I was surrounded by darkness, my sight had not been taken from me. That was a nightmare I didn’t think I’d be able to survive again with my sanity intact.
My memories came back to me in a rush and my head screamed at me in agony. I hadn’t thought it could feel any worse, but here I was and it felt awful.
And I was so impossibly stupid it wasn’t even funny.
Why I would have ever thought it was a good idea to return to that wretched place all by myself was beyond my brain capabilities at the moment, but I was pretty sure I was going to pay dearly for it.
Someone had hit me in the head with something. What, I didn’t know, and who I didn’t know either. The only thing I knew was that I had recognized his voice and it had been a voice from my actual time down in that hole.
My worst fucking nightmare came back to life when I’d thought all the monsters in it had been dead and were gone.
And I had no idea what he even looked like, I just knew that his voice sent terror through my system like a shock akin to being submerged in ice water.
The room I was in was disgusting and nowhere I’d been before. At least it was no place I could remember having been before. There were still possible weeks of time in my mind that were either blank or I’d been blind and had no idea where I’d been.
The walls were covered in brown, peeling wallpaper and there were several holes in places. From what I could tell in the dark, the floor was covered in dirt and trash. The bed I was chained to had a rusted frame that groaned loudly when I yanked on my chains. Thankfully, I couldn’t see what the mattress below me looked like, but I knew it wasn’t any good because I could feel the springs in several places.
It was a hell of a lot better than being down in that hole and having my sight taken from me, but that really wasn’t saying much. But at least I could see and that wasn’t something I would ever take for granted again.
The room smelled of mold mixed with rotting garbage and I didn’t think the sweltering heat did the stench any favors. I probably smelled terrible as well.
I wanted to tell myself that things could definitely be worse because I’d lived through hell already, but I had no idea what lay ahead of me. I almost wished I hadn’t woken up and had lapsed into a coma or something instead.
Regret was such a terrible, awful thing to feel. It was almost suffocating and I couldn’t stop the tears from leaking out of the corners of my eyes.
I’d had everything I could possibly have wanted within my reach and I’d been careless and fucked it all up.
They were going to wake up to find me gone and they were going to think I ran. They were going to hate me for sure.
I hated me.
Would they even bother to look for me?
Rain would. He’d feel like it was his responsibility and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from hunting me down.
