In A Little Girl's Fantasy

Svetlana Yulia Koslovsky 

Waking up groggily, I had a throbbing headache. It felt like the world was going merry-go-round and a curse left my foul-tasting mouth, involuntary. My tongue flickered in my mouth trying to name the horrible bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Unrecognizable, but it was some medicine for sure.

What the f*ck had they fed me?! I absolutely despise when someone plays with my body or conscious function. Whoever this was should damn well draft their wills!

Blinking I tried to adjust to the light in the room. My breath hitched as my eyes roamed the length of my body. GOD! I was wearing the same clothing that I was wearing the night before and there was no ache in my body except the one in my head.

I shut my eye and let out a shaky breath. I wasn’t r*ped which was a good sign. My hand reached my chest to even my breathing but then froze mid-air. I could move my hand!

I wasn’t tied and I wasn’t in some basement with a leaking pipe and dead rotten rodent inmates!

My eyes greedily took in the view in front of me. With everything that I took in, my eyes widened another inch to the point I believed they would pop out of their sockets.

"Screw me!" The whisper left me involuntarily

One thing was for sure it’s not the Kozlovsky’s that caught me. They are never this cringy-level hospitable with their welcomes. But the whole room was fu*king pink!

Like a Barbie room! Even the pastel décor was like a 10-year-old Barbie+Pink obsessed lassie! Did I get in the hands of a psycho, who wants to fulfill his Barbie fantasies?! Or it could very well be some sadistic Dom Daddy or something who wanted me to play a mentally challenged baby!

Didn’t the dolly had blonde hair, though? I clearly have ebony black hair!

Nonetheless, it was creepy. The feathery-smooth linens I was on were silky blush pink and the furry comforter on me was dyed mauve pink. The adjacent walls were not-shockingly pink and you guessed it, with bridal pink filigree on them and the other two walls were carnation white. From the carpets, doors, couches, vanity, and coffee table to collages and frames everything was stationed to be delicately girlish to the point I felt like I was in some nauseastic dollhouse.

My heartbeats spiked up. Where the hell in the GOD forsaken place was I! It gave me some circus-crazed-vibes. I had to get out of here! I'd seen some questionable American psychotic themed film and this sure looked like the head-start of one.

American over-indulged this theme in their Entertaiment sector which made me assume it's common occurrence here. But I don't want to experience first-hand how a psychotic man can be resilient to death and earthily factors.

And I needed to get to the cargo ship!

My heart dropped to my stomach once I brought my wrist up in my sight. 7:30 Am. I threw my head back on the pillow and groaned in frustration, anger with a sprinkle of fear.

“Arghhh...That damn mu-dak!” I scoffed out as frustration infiltrated the sane part of my mind. I had missed the ship and it would be on the sails by now... which means that my head will be on spike sooner or later. As there was no way I could stay hidden here in the States. This was a free playground for all Mafias!

Having mourned for the dead-me enough, I started taking in my surrounding. Two ceilings to floor French windows with grills. I fidgeted with my fingers when my eyes trailed to the Balcony. That’s what I needed! I can get out of here and will look for another way from there.

I jerked out of the bed and took several hurried steps to possibly my only escape route. As I started advancing toward the Balcony, the door swung open and a woman in maid clothing came inside with a tray in her hand.

The young woman’s eyes widened as if I was a mummy that had resurrected, and she exclaimed in utter surprise, “Miss Astor! You are awake!”

Before my upper lip could twitch, the young maid went galloping out of the door. Americans. Too jumpy and cheery, so early in the morning.

I was confused would be an utter understatement. What the hell is going on here! No matter how I tried to comprehend the situation, it freaked me out.

It was not a place I recognized and I wasn’t some ‘Ms. Astor’. Though curious, I was smart enough not to wait for all this to unfold.

Shaking my head, I started heading toward the Balcony's threshold.

But before I could reach the Balcony, again the door inaugurated revealing two maids and a doctor followed by a middle-aged authoritative man who seemed to have been preserved with time, most probably in his early fifties or late forties.

With electric blue eyes, caramel blonde hair, and sharp features the man was a catch but that wasn’t the thing that will have you staring at him. The noteworthy thing about him was his aura, which will have you reconsider your speech in front of him. He sucked all the attention from the room just by stepping in, I wanted to yell and curse but I was too cautious to jump in unknown water. Besides, the man looked majorly pissed.

He was scary but unless it wasn’t crazed insanity I would take what I can get. A relief.

“Serena, let the doctor check you.” He ordered in a stern and stiff tone as if ordering his comrade and just by one look I could tell, that was the softest tone the man could muster. Probably an ex-SEAL or something.