Frightened But Not Alone

Her head was hurting. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids seemed so heavy. She could hear voices, like from afar. Her mouth was dry and she could not lift her arm. What had happened? Where was she? She couldn’t remember what she had been doing before she ended up here. She could hear alarm bells and whistles as they rang throughout her brain. She could feel the goosebumps emerge on her flesh as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She felt sleepy and weak but she was determined to know what was happening to her. She did not know if she’d yelled at herself, but she did hear her words echoing through her mind, “Open, dammit, open!!”

And now that her eyelids had responded to her commands she did not feel any less frightened.  In fact, it was quite the opposite. Now it was no longer a general sense of something being wrong, now she could see that something was very wrong.  Hovering over her were three men in white. One of them was right near her face… way too close for comfort. Then she felt it, she felt the cold touch of steel upon her chest, her body jolted, trying to move away, but the men held her firmly in place.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Help, somebody help me! They’ve got me!”

She tried with all of her might to push them away, but their grips only tightened more firmly as she squirmed to push and kick her way free.

“Let go of me! Leave me alone!”

“They’ve got me and they won’t let me go! Call 911, call 911”, she shouted.

She started feeling her body weakening, quivering, as the tears welled up in her eyes and began running down her face. She was losing her will to fight them. It was just too hard. The men were still talking, mostly to themselves, but she couldn’t make out their words, they were just out of reach.

“Please! Please, I don’t understand. Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.” She begged, knowing that these pleas would go unheralded. She was after all a crime reporter and knew that psychotic killers never felt pity for their victims. She stopped struggling against their hands and took a deep breath and as she did so, the world around her began to solidify. The blurred vision of the men in white cleared as the voice of the man standing closest to her floated crisply, clearly toward her.

“Rebecca, it’s going to be all right.  You’ve had a seizure, but you are okay. Just lie there while we finish checking your vitals.  Is there anyone you would like us to call for you?”

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The above short story was inspired by Author S B Mazing’s blog event Finish It, which began as a Blogging201 assignment meant to further expand our blogging experiences as well as our strength of community. Do one, or do them all, it’s up to you; Join her event to experiment with a story prompt and give your fingers a shot at short storytelling… every Wednesday she’ll provide a new prompt! This story came from Finish It prompt #15. 

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