I remember that night very clearly.
My mind was slow, but I could make everything out. Hands behind me bound, my mouth gagged. I could expect a lone spotlight shining down on me, but I wasn't even worth that. Sitting there in the dark, I waited. Waited for hours, but no one came to claim me.
At times I would pass out competly either from hunger or exhaustion. The stiff chair I was tied to was not in very good shape, I was afraid it would colapse under my weight. Sometimes I felt like I would die, but I never did, sitting in that chair. During other times, I felt strong like I could overcome this.
But at the time, I didn't know what 'this' was. I had just woke up there.
The first time I woke up, I was overcome by fright, at more and more hours passed, I seemed to give up. My engery was better spent surviving than worrying why I was there.
There in the darkness, I would wonder if someone was watching me. Watching me suffer and die before their eyes. Maybe it was my imagination or true, but I really felt like I was dying.
Sometimes I felt truly helpless, on the verge of giving up. The torture of waiting so much more painful than actually dying. But other times I had fight in me, challenging the effort to stay alive or at least awake.
But if I couldn't defend myself, I would never live. Doing this alone was a lost cause, at times I would wonder why I hadn't given in.
Crying was difficult, breathing was a challenge, fighting the bonds was impossible. Giving up inculding dying without knowing who or why someone did this to me. My last memory was turning off my lamp to go to sleep at home. That must have been days ago.
The blanket of dark masked the room. I could make out, moldly walls. But I couldn't tell if there even was a door or a window.
Giving up was next on my list if nothing happened soon.
"Damn it! You said she would be dead," a female voice hisses to someone. If I wasn't so hungry and sore, I may had actually cared. I couldn't be sure if it was just my imagination or people were actually talking.
"How could I know she would survive this long? I told you injecting her would speed things up," a deeper voice hissed back at her. Despite the extreme exhaustion, my heart picked up to a high speed. Lethal injections? Where they talking about me or was I still imagining things?
There hushed quick words collide with my groggy mind making thinking or listening impossible. My beating heart was the only thing that could possibly remind me I was alive.
"I would, but that sounds unnatural."
The man sounded like he was choking back a laugh, "This isn't unnatural?" Their plans seem to be coming along quite well in my terms if they want me dead. For all it's worth, I feel dead.
"Let's get this over with, Damn it!" the woman shrieks. Behind my closed lids, lights turn on. I refuse to open my eyes, pretending to be dead. The lights are blinding beyond imaginable, I wouldn't have opened my eyes even if I wasn't playing dead.
Something jerked my chin foreward. Someone was grabbing it, I could tell, but my eyes were still shut tight. My limp body falls foreward in the persons grip.
"Listen, Bitch," the same woman hisses, obviously at me. The voice sounded very farmiliar, but my mind so slow, like I was drugged, couldn't place the voice to a face. Her grip on my chin tightens, "Open you're eyes."
My eyelids felt one hundred pounds or more, but with most effort I got them open, but I still couldn't train my eyes on anything. They glazed over unable to focus on anything. My eyes felt almost crossed, but relaxed at the same time.
She shook my head violently, "Look at me!" She shouted at me, with great severity. My body was unable to react, the shouting went right through me. I felt almost like she wasn't even there. Even if I was to order my muscles to move, they wouldn't.
The woman released my chin and steped away from me. My body slumped as foreward as the bindings and the chair would allow. I would ask her who she was, but my voice never came to me.
"Gina, maybe she can't physically answer you," the male voice offered. Why would he defend me? Only minutes ago he was offering to kill me with lethal injections. This Gina woman must have be insane or something equally werid.
"No," she hissed at him with the same tone I have only heard her use, "If she could open her eyes, she can look at me." Her voice shook with anger. Nothing I had ever done could have effected her that much.
Damn. Damn. Why did I have to open my eyes? Why did I have to respond? I could have just pretended to be dead like I was already doing. It wouldn't have been that hard anyways.
I had no choice, I needed to look at her. Focusing on Gina felt like lifting weights with my eyes, but after an effort, Icould focus on her. Not well, but well enough.
My chest tightened when I looked at her and recognized who Gina really was. Her deep brown hair fell down in waves down her back. Her cruel honey colored eyes narrowed at me.My ownbreathingcame out in littlesurprised pants.