Drugged // h.s. [complete]

Seven

WARNING: FLUFFY ALERT!!

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Harry’s POV

 

I looked around to see that I was in a bland room. The door, walls and roof were a pale yellow that reminded me of an article I once read that explained the reflection concept that the yellow contrasted. Apparently it helps brighten up the room by reflecting the light, it had this big science explanation that was just plain Gibberish to me.

On my left was a small table snuggled up next to the bed that I was laying on. On it sat a plain white lamp that stood out in the yellow room, and the bulb appeared to be missing.

I immediately tried to comprehend on how I got here. All I could remember was slowly drifting to sleep, which I still wasn’t sure on how I could do with so much, yet so little going on. I pondered on ways such as sleepwalking but I knew that it was impossible to get out because it was a one-exit room and that exit was locked.

I thought that maybe Amelia had carried me. Then I thought of why I used her actual name instead of something else like; ‘captor’ or ‘kidnapper’. Maybe it was because of the way she opened up to me and was straightforward about her life to a complete stranger. I mean, the fact that your mum is in a coma and your dad is unaware of your existence, isn’t something you should be telling the world, not to mention telling a stranger. But then again, I was grateful that she’d gotten up the courage to tell me. Now I might take it a little easier on her.

On my left was a closet and I eyed it suspiciously, carefully picking myself up of the stiff bed. I froze for a few seconds when it creaked, thankful that no one heard and went back to investigating the inhabitance of the closet.

As I strode over, I noticed that the floor was in need of serious stain removal. In the corner of my eye I saw what I guessed was a wine stain and what I’m presuming was a smashed bottle of beer on the right of the closet.

I warily walked over, carefully missing the stray pieces of broken glass and opened the two closet doors with a slight tug. They opened with little noise and I peered inside. For the first time in a few days, I had a sufficient amount of light, so looking into the closet with my slight blur of vision, I noticed men clothing. As I looked closer and saw tags, I grabbed one, flipping it over to show my exact size.

“I bought them for you.” I was surprised by the voice behind me and I jumped, narrowly missing a piece of glass.

“A few days of being stuck in a basement calls for fresh, clean clothes. Am I right?” Amelia said, standing at the doorway with a small smile tugged on her lips.

“I guess so…”I was still a little startled by her sudden appearance, I didn’t even hear the door open.

Upon the arrival of Amelia, I became quite shy. I no longer cared about my surroundings. Instead, my attention was focused on her. Her blond hair was yet again wavy and was let down, somewhat messily. She wore purple skinny jeans paired with a white flowy top (I think that’s what they call it).

As Amelia stood in front of me, I understood that there was a difference between the word pretty and beautiful. Pretty meant to be attractive in a delicate way yet not truly beautiful. Beautiful meant to please the senses or mind aesthetically. The girl standing in front of me was beautiful, in her very own twisted way. I’d seen her break down in tears and I’d seen her with a hand on her hip and a smirk on her face. That was all in the matter of a few days. Imagine what sides I could see in a lifetime with her.