35

Camila

Panic streaks through me when I open my eyes to a pitch black. I sit up abruptly, blinking many times and let my eyes adjust to the dark room.

A soft humming of the air condition makes me hug my knees tighter to my body as the goosebumps crawl on my skin. It smells old and dusty. The tiled-floor is cold underneath my bare feet, making my toes curl.

This is not my room.

Where am I?

A clicking of bolt indicates someone is unlocking the door from the outside. My body stiffens. The door creaks open, a yellow light slowly illuminates inside. My heart pounds in my chest when a woman’s silhouette reveals.

“You’re finally awake, sweetheart. You must be hungry,” says the petite woman. She has the softest voice I’ve ever heard, but there is something in her voice that makes me shiver.

“Where am I? Who are you?” I ask in a wary tone.

“