Stockholm Syndrome

2.

My mind slipped back into consciousness slowly.

A wave of sickness fell over me as I barely opened my eyes, my head throbbing. I brought my hand slowly to my face, wincing as I felt a large gash on the top left of my forehead. I examined my fingers, small fragments of dried blood flaking off of them.

Sighing deeply; I sat up slowly, my head pounding from the movement. My eyes wandered the room as I desperately tried to put the pieces together of what had happened to me, or where I was; but any sort of thinking only seemed to make my splitting headache worse.

Suddenly I remembered the man, his face, his eyes; and my breathing stopped.

I examined the room I was in carefully. It was eerie and left me perturbed, unsettled. There weren't many things in it—a dresser, a lamp, the bed, and a large painting that hung on the wall. I looked around in bewilderment, without the lamp the room would be completely somber; there was no light leaking from any other areas of the room.

Slowly I got up from the bed, my muscles were incredibly achy and weak; they hurt badly, as if I had ran a marathon the day before. What did he do to me? I thought to myself, pushing my legs over the side of the bed.

My bare feet hit the cold floor and I jumped at the chilling sensation, wincing as pain shot through my left leg. I took a deep breath and relaxed before standing up on my opposite leg. Weaker than I realized, my body began to shake before I fell, catching myself on the dresser. The small lamp that sat on top the dresser slowly swayed before it fell off and slammed onto the floor below. It shattered on impact, and I quickly covered my mouth. Silently sitting there, I was half expecting someone to come barging into the room to investigate the noise; but to my surprise, the hallway behind the door seemed to be awfully quiet. I let out a small sigh as my head pounded harder than before, but I refused to give up.

Despite the pain I was feeling throughout, I managed to get back on my feet. I let myself breathe deeply through my nose for a moment, taking in the unfamiliar smell of the room. My bottom lip trembled as I began to cry softly, a feeling of homesickness falling over me. Never once did I think I'd miss my shithole of an apartment, not until now.

My eyes wandered the space again, and I noticed a bit of light coming from the back of the room. Limping over to it curiously, I tried to get a better look at what I saw. On the wall was a window hidden behind a curtain, a small ray of sunlight shining through the glass. Tilting my head, I reached it with a deep breath. As I peered through the glass, a gasp escaped me as I saw what was outside.

There was nothing visible from beyond the window apart from a vast view of the ocean.

My breathing halted in my throat as I began to panic. Turning my attention to the edge of the window, I looked for some sort of latch to open it. When I finally located it, I felt tears brim the edges of my eyes as I noticed it was broken off, and I began to pry at the window desperately. Taking a deep breath, I swung my fist at the window, hitting it roughly. Wincing as I drew my hand away, I shook away the pain that reverberated through my arm, continuing to pound on the glass. My punching got louder as I began to use more force, determination flowing through me.

The sound of footsteps echoed from beyond the door and an unlocking sound rang from behind me. As the sound of the door flying open echoed through the room, I quickly turned to see the man in the doorway.

"What the bloody hell was that?" I heard the man bellow, his raspy voice filling the room.

Unable to hold back my tears as I looked at him, I shook my head in disbelief. Hysteria fell over me as I glanced at where the lamp had fallen, and ran to it. Without hesitation, I quickly grabbed a piece of the bulb, and held it to my wrist. My eyes met my captor's, his dark expression twisted with a glare.