Just Three Friends

The room was dark, and the air pressing in around me was hard and cold. Before all this had started, I’d never felt the air. Never, but I did now. I had ever since that night… the night Sarah had looked her boyfriend in the eyes and kissed him for what she hoped wasn’t the last time. Sarah was dead now. They’d taken her three weeks ago. Then her boyfriend Colt had been dragged away, too. Now, it was down to me and the rats and a single cracked tray that held the sad excuse for dinner I was given every night.

We’d been going on a walk that was all. We hadn’t wanted to head home from our night out yet, and Colt and Sarah had said they knew the trail by heart, but I guess that in the dark, they got turned around, and when we tried to get back, we just got more lost. That’s when they’d hit us, knocking us on the heads and putting us down for the count.

When we’d woken up to the sound of Sarah’s incessant wailing, we’d been in this damned room, chained to the wall. Eventually, someone had come for Sarah, and then Colt had been dragged out as well, and now I was left. Becoming slowly used to this life as time passed, I was simply living without fear because I was thinking they’d have come for me by now if they were going to do anything, and that was my downfall.

That night, the door began to open, and though the light that shoved its way into the darkness seared my eyes, I scrambled forward expecting my food tray. What stepped inside though scared me even more than the rats. He was big, and through my squinting eyes, I could tell it wasn’t fat. He was too compacted, and when he grabbed my wrist I screamed. He took a glinting silver key, unchained me, and started to pull me behind him- uncaring of whether I kept up or not, and I didn’t. I let myself drag along the ground until he got tired of it and yanked me up to my feet.

In mere moments, we were in the doorway to another room, and as I looked around the room, my heart fell into my toes. The room was white, and I could smell the bleach that permeated the air. The cold metal instruments sitting on the wheeled table didn’t scare me nearly as much as the slab on legs that was obviously meant to be my bed.  The man standing there in a white lab coat might have been my family doctor, but then he smiled at me, and the malevolence in that smile stole my breath away.



After that, everything was a blur to me- them strapping me to the table, wiping my throat with alcohol, and prepping me for the death I must have known was coming… none of it pierced through my sudden haze. The only thing I could think is we were just three friends, taking a walk through the woods, trying to avoid our parents… who knew this would be our fate… and then the knife touched my throat, and I screamed. Turns out… that was the last sound I’d ever make.



"The end," I said, and I watched as the kids around the fire shuddered. I was great at this story telling thing, I thought, and laughed when the counselors told us to go to our cabins, but no one moved.



"It's just a story idiots," I told them, rolling my eyes and starting back toward camp. I turned back, though, because I had forgotten my book by my seat, and that's when it hit me.



 And I woke up in a dark, dank, musty room…

The End.