Buried (Bailey Roberts Trilogy #1) Editing

03a: Sounds of Madness [3rd draft]

Chapter 03a: Sounds of Madness

3:09 am 12/27/2009

Jamie Anderson's head was pounding as she opened her bleary eyes. She woke up to darkness, an odd earthy smell, and a piece of hair tickling the tip of her nose. She sneezed and batted away the offending strand, before rubbing her eyes and trying to clear the sleep away. Arching her back, vaguely aware of the dull ache in her lower body, she extended her arms horizontally above her head, and cringed as she knocked into a rough wall.

She frowned, shaking her head she curiously stretched her fingertips out to explore what she'd knocked into... rough panels that felt strangely like wood. Her bed wasn't next to any wooden wall. She specifically remembered it being in the middle of her room, it matched her décor better. The positioning had taken days to decide. It most definitely wouldn't have been moved after a mistaken night of illegal underage drinking, and a few other scandalous activities Jamie knew she'd want to forget soon enough.  She brought her hands down to feel the soft plush cushions under her and her brows drew together. It felt like her bed.

She moved to sit up, but was immediately forced back due to her head slamming into something that felt similar to the panels she brushed against before. Her head was already hurting, but the extra knock with some blood made it worse. She was never going to drink again. It would be her one and only time of trying to be a wannabe wild girl with some semblance of a partying social life.

Drinking was bad.

She took a deep breath, her cheeks puffing out as she slowly let out the air before reaching above her to feel what she'd correctly assumed were wooden panels. Only, the one above her was rough with tons of lines down it; almost like scratch marks. Right next to those marks, now directly above her, were two round rubber grips.

Were they plugging something?

The thought was interrupted as burning pain shot through her index finger. She inhaled sharply, letting a curse trail off her lips as she brought the hurt finger closer to her face, hoping to see the wooden sliver lodged beneath her fingernail.

Trying to get a better look, she shifted. It wasn't a big position change, but her thighs went with the movement and the sharp ache that had been there previously, coerced between her thighs again. She cringed, dropping her uninjured hand between her legs to try and dull the pain, but gasped. She didn't expect the area to be cold and damp.

Hesitantly, she lifted her fingers to her face and sniffed. The metallic smell of blood had her gag reflex about to go into overdrive. She quickly swiped the wetness off on her shirt. Reaching both her hands upwards she went to apply a little more pressure to whatever it was that was above her. She had to get out of this thing and her arms quivered from the effort. When it wouldn't budge, she pulled away.

Clearly shoulder strength alone wasn't going to do it. She slid down against the cushions, her shirt riding further up her midriff the more she went down. She managed to bend her knees enough so that the tops of her kneecaps knocked into the wood panels above her, and pushed, hoping the additional application of pressure would do the job.

When that failed, her hands dropped to her sides, clenching into tight fists. She glared angrily at the door and gritted her teeth in frustration. Punching forward with both arms, she let her knuckles ram into the board. Her muscles quivered while she grunted at the resistance.

"The fuck?" She mumbled, feeling like she was about to cross the borderline to hysteria. She tried again, squealing with effort, hoping to loosen whatever was holding the thing down. All the while wondering what the hell was going on. It didn't move an inch. Her nostrils flared with anger and a hint of fear. Her friends had taken this joke way too far now.