The First Day

Trying to Escape

The last thing I remember before I passed out was his blood red eyes turning into deep amber brown. When I awoke my vision was a blur. I was in a room, a very cold room. I had goose bumps all over my body; probably a mixture of fear and frost bite. I couldn’t feel my hands or my feet; my teeth where having a seizure in my mouth. I stood up, immediately overcome with dizziness; I fell back down on the ice cold floor.

“Hello?” I decided to call out, no answer. When I vision had cleared, I realized I was in a small room. The walls were pure white, aside from the obvious blood stains. The floor was made up of beige tile, probably originally white, but colored from all of the blood. There was one door in the corner of the room, no windows, and one florescent light on the ceiling; the only source of light in the room. I tried to stand up again, but almost instantly hit the cool, slick floor.

Suddenly the metallic door started to open. I quickly pull my knees up to my chin, say a little prayer and expect the worst.

“Hello, Brielle,” said a man. It took me a few minutes to realize it was him; the same man that had brought me here. He looked over me. “You really are a beauty,” he spoke, while walking towards me. My mind was racing, a million thoughts were running through my head per second. Was he going to kill me? Why did he bring me here? How did I get here? What had happened to Lissa?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the monster stated, with a smirk plastered upon his pale face. As he inched closer to me, I could feel the frozen tears streaming down my face. A mere twenty-four hours ago I was in my bed, anxiously awaiting my senior year; now, I was anxiously awaiting my death.

“I can see your still emotional, I will leave. The maid-servant will be here in a while to get you all cleaned up.” And with that he left, leaving me to wonder as to why I’m here exactly. How where my parents? Where exactly was I? What’s going on in the outside world? My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when a petite girl, about my age, walked in. She had golden brown hair, and some of the most beautiful features I had ever seen. Her eyes matched her hair color, but where much lighter than the black and blue bruises implanted around her body. She wore a rigid dress, barely covering up the essentials. Was I going to end up like her?

“Follow me,” she spoke quietly, I could barely manage hear your faint voice. I didn’t hesitate to follow her; I could manage to stand now, but walking was a trouble. She led me out of the room, and into a hallway lined up with doors. Were there people in there to? It was darker in the hallway, the soft carpet felt warm against my bare feet. Pictures also ruled the walls, they were disturbing imagines, lots of blood and war; but some were of portraits, of men that probably led all the way back to the biblical ages.

“Where, where are we going?” I could finally succeed to say. She didn’t reply, just kept leading me through a maze of maroon hallways. Finally she made a stop, and it was at an elevator. She pushed the button pointing up, which also happened to be the only button available. We stood there in silence for only a minute before the beep, and the doors slid open. We both walked into the glass elevator. The only thing you could see out of the translucent wall was cement, we must be underground. And in about two minutes I realized I was right, wherever we were, it was raining and dreary looking. The building we were must have been at least 150 stories high, not including the underground levels.

The doors slid wide open again in a couple of seconds, and we walked into what looked like a grand entryway. I was pretty sure we were in a palace of some sort. She led me into a bathroom, gave me a towel, and shut the door. I was confused at first; did they not think I would try to escape? Did I think I could try to escape? Well, what the hell, I’ll most likely be killed either way. Before I walked over to turn on the shower, I got a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror. Whoa, I looked like hell. My hair was a mess; my mascara was smudged all over my face. My clothes were all dirty, and I had a bite mark on my neck. A BITE MARK! How did I not realize this before? He actually bit me! I was definitely getting out of here.