IntroductionA Chapter by Destiny GlennIntroduction
I open my eyes to a ceiling. I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel my hands. I can’t feel anything. I don’t know where I am. Who am I? What’s my name? I can’t remember anything. I can’t breathe. Someone help, please. Wait, do I live here? Is this my house? I don’t know. Please help me, someone. These are the thoughts to myself. Fighting through the numbness and shock, I get up out of the bed I woke up on. I look down and notice I’m fully dressed; jeans, shoes, tank, everything. I’m becoming very jumble and affright. I start to stumble around. There’s a dresser in front of me. I look into the mirror attached to it. “Is that me?” I ask myself. I reach out to touch it. The hand on the other side reaches back out at me. I realize that the mirror is cold, I am cold; warmth is something I need. I look at the hand confusingly and then back at the mirror. I look at my hair through the mirror, it’s damp. I touch my face, it’s smooth. I don’t feel like I’m in my own flesh. “Am I okay?” I whisper, “Have I gone insane?” I slowly walk back to the bed thinking I should lie down, it’s just a dream. It has to be a dream. As I lay there, staring at the lavender walls, thinking this just doesn’t make sense; my eyes dart to the window. Light and heat are my immediate conclusions. I sit up and get myself up out of the bed, once again. I walk towards the window, I can see my reflection. I still don’t think I’m me. I feel very inhuman. I put my hand on the window. It’s cold, so cold it burns. I drop my hand immediately and just stare at the glass. Looking at the reflections through the window, I see a guy walk in. I turn around. He’s a tall, white guy. He looks extremely professional as if he could own a business. “Natalie,” He says, sounding irritated. “It’s time to go.” “Where am I?” I ask. “That doesn’t matter right now. Let’s go.” “How’d I get here?” He walks towards me. “You don’t need to know that, Natalie.” I step back, scared, and confused. “So that’s my name, Natalie"?” It becomes very hard to breathe. “Yes, it is.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Now, it’s time to go.” I throw his hand off my shoulder. “No! Don’t touch me! What have you done to me? This isn’t even my mind! Who are you?” I scream, as the room begins to spin and I become very nauseated. I lean onto the wall for support as I try to catch my breath. “I’m here to make sure you are stabilized and ready to go. Right now, it doesn’t look like you’re going to let me do that.” He says sternly. “Natalie, I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t make me do that.” “Hurt me? Oh my God"” “Now, let’s go!” He yells. I run out the door screaming, “No! Leave me alone!” He’s chasing me. I run down the stairs and take a right. There’s a kitchen. I pause for a second to find a door. That was a mistake. He grabs me. I fight my way out of his arms. “Don’t touch me!” I scream. I see a door. On a hook over to the right there are keys. They look like car keys. I grab them and unlock the door and run. I don’t see a car. “What?” I say to myself. I’m confused. I realize I’m in a backyard. I decide to run around the house. I see a car. I look down at the key and pressed the unlock button. I turn to look behind me; I see he’s catching up. I run as fast as I can to the black vehicle and open the door. I get in and lock the doors. Trying to catch my breath, he’s banging on the window. “Natalie, get out of the car now!” He screams. I start the engine and back out of the driveway. As I’m trying to figure out where I am and where I’m going; I’m on a long road. I look up at the back view mirror, I see a woman. She’s wearing a lab coat. “Hello Natalie,” she smiles. I crash into a tree then everything goes dark. © 2016 Destiny GlennAuthor's Note
|
Stats
214 Views
2 Reviews Added on May 18, 2016 Last Updated on May 18, 2016 AuthorDestiny GlennLouisville, KYAboutI'm honestly not a social person. I used to be, but that's another story. I'm a dancer--preferably hip hop, but I also do jazz and lyrical/contemporary. I love photography. It's like looking at the wo.. more..Writing
|