Chapter 2: The Light Above The Door

     Harper

   I don’t know what time it is, what day it is, let alone what year it is. How am I even able to comprehend time when I am at a loss on who I am. I feel crazy! I am in a body I know with every particle of my being just is not mine, but how do I explain that to someone? How do I even know how such a thing is possible? I am back on the bed that also, is not mine. I know what my next move should be. It should be to start looking around. Gain more information about my surroundings. My head is a cloud. A cloud so high in the sky it is practically cloud nine. It feels like mush. Like this body, small and weak. My brain is not processing like I need it too and for some reason it this all seems purposeful, and it is starting to piss me off. 

      Every time I try to remember, it’s like a wave of pain rushes over my entire body. It is as though my brain is asking me not to remember. I start small. I look at what I am wearing. I am wearing short black shorts and a black tank top. All skin tight and not my style at all. There aren't any visible markings on my body that I can see. She has no visible tattoos. My socks are knee-high, black, with three white stripes at the top. There are a pair of black chuck converse next to a door with pink shoe lac… A DOOR! I dash at the door, practically running into it. Jiggle the handle, and of course, it is fucking locked! The damn thing doesn’t even budge like a standard door would! Now I am panicking. I place my back to the door. My eyes go everywhere- all over the room. I look for windows. There are none! My eyes look for a phone. There are none! My eyes look for outlets, phone cable maybe… nothing. Wait, how am I just realizing how small this room is? How out of it have I been? Was I drugged? Am I a prisoner? Is this someone’s basement? Holy hell. This is all fucked, and I drew the Ace of Spades! I start yelling as loud as I can: “Hello, can anyone hear me? Please let me out of here!” I do this for at least thirty minutes before realizing that this room is soundproof and no one can hear out of it, and it is made this way on purpose. Oh, and also I will be murdered in this room with its’ tacky black walls. A man set this room up. There is no doubt. There is a weird light above the door of the room, which leads me to believe that the setup of the door is controlled electronically. When I tried to open the door, it did not sound heavy-duty. But I am far from a door expert. At least, I don’t think I am. Shit, who knows - I could be a Duchess of England, I wouldn’t know. I am so tired. What is this place, and why has no one come into the room yet to try to explain? To offer me something, rape me even? Nothing is adding up.

    I lay back on the bed, close my eyes and try to accept my fate. Whichever fate it shall be. One of rape: a disgusting man heaving his large body on top of me covered in sweat as he heavy breathes all over me. Disgustingly and forcefully shoving himself into me while I send my subconscious somewhere better. Anywhere else. Or maybe the awkward government interview thing because they think I am someone I am not. Or perhaps they put me inside of this girl as a project they didn't get me to consent to. Hence the brain history wipe. Or the most logical: I have died, entered of gates hell, and this is my torture room for eternity. 

     I try to close my eyes lightly and focus on a place much better than this one—a beautiful island off the coast of the Caribbean. On a beautiful hot day, I am lying on the beach in a beautiful red bikini. Top halfway off as I lay down. No one else is around, so why not.  Sun is shining down on my face. I imagine myself laying back skin to sand in a bikini alone on the shore close enough to the water for the tide to touch me as it washes up. I am exactly where I want to be, and as I lay in the sunlight, eyes closed, feeling the rays on my skin. I can see the colors of vibrant oranges through my eyes lids, and I am smiling because it is the small things in life that make it extraordinary.

         As I am thinking of this place, I can feel my body, feel warm all over. As I fall deeper into a sleep-like trance, I begin to see pixelated blackness. It's almost like numbers far out in front of me, but I can't tell if they are numbers or letters because they are spinning. I feel like I am being sucked into a wormhole, a tornado-like object. Maybe a vortex, a vector-like structure, is pulling me inward. It is of my own dreamlike creation. One I wanted and need to go into. I am familiar with it. I know it, and it knows me. The feeling doesn’t last long because out of nowhere; I hear a loud alarm go off. The sounds make it feel like my ears want to bleed; maybe they are. I place my hands hard against my ears to make the excruciating pain stop. The light above the door flashes red, and a few moments later, five men enter with electrical sticks, and each one jab and zap the hell out of me, and I pass out.