Hold On, I'm Here

Chapter 1

As Emma Hunter willed her eyes to adjust to the sudden light in the pitch black room, she felt herself start to panic. The last thing she remembered was walking home after a night out on the town. Then she remembered the van pulling up behind her, screeching to a halt, the door being thrown open. Strong arms encasing her and pulling her effortlessly into the van with them. Her breathing became rapid and her eyes wildly searching the room for anything, anything that could help her. But she couldn’t see anything. The single light above her had a limited range and she couldn’t see into the darkness that seemed to surround and guard her like a prisoner. She went to rub her eyes, finding that they were suddenly itchy and heavy. But she couldn’t move her arm. She frowned and tried again, but something was stopping her. She tried to prop herself up a little to see what was happening. What she saw made her heart sink and the colour drain from her face. Emma’s hands and feet were bound with leather straps to what looked like a metal table. She could feel the cold hard steel beneath her. She tried to free them, but Emma knew it was useless. The restraints wouldn’t budge, even when she pulled with all her might.

Emma tried to remember anything about her life. She knew her name, which was something. She tried to remember her address, but she was panicking too much to remember her postcode. She closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing, to slow it down. She had to remain calm. Instead of the address, she started to remember what her house looked like. She saw the dirty white walls on the outside, the red titled roof that never quite kept all the rain out on stormy days. She saw the back garden, the bushes and flowers that her mother insisted Emma left alone out of fear of having them ruined. She saw the garage where her father and brothers always had their grubby and grimy heads inside some old scrapped car trying to nurse it back to life. She saw her own bike, her pride and joy that had taken her all over the country with great freedom and ease. She longed for that feeling of freedom again, to feel the wind rushing all around her as she blasted down an abandoned road in the middle of the desert. Emma felt a small tear in her eye, and gritted her teeth. Now was not the time for crying. Now was the time for escaping.

She could feel her heart beat rising, the blood pumping in her eyes. She looked around her again, trying with all her might to see every inch of the room. But the cone of light restricted her vision, making it impossible to see anything. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a sudden burst of light and snapped her head around to see what had just happened. She knew it was a door before her eyes even adjusted to this new light. Like shadows moving out of the corner of your eye, a number of blobs moved into the room, slipping into the darkness as quickly as they arrived. She heard movement all around her; hard shoes on the concrete floor, a squeaky wheel protesting being moved, low murmurs that she couldn’t pinpoint, and the faint sound of rough fabric rubbing together. A cold white light flickered on from the other side of the door, and she knew what it was as soon as she saw the x-ray films. Emma pulled at the restraints again, pulling hard, breathing faster, calling on everything she had to try and get free. She didn’t know what was going to happen to her, but she knew she had to get out and escape somehow.

Emma suddenly felt a small pressure on her hand and stopped struggling. She looked up slightly towards the pressure. Looming over her, casting a small shadow over her, was a figure. She couldn’t make out a face or anything about this figure, but she wasn’t focused on that. All Emma could think about was that this silent, looming figure, had placed their hand on hers. She felt a warm, rough hand squeeze hers slightly, she suddenly felt calmer. This stranger, this figure didn’t speak, didn’t stay a word, but gave off such a caring and calming vibe that Emma suddenly didn’t care about getting free. She suddenly felt safe.

“You’ll feel a pinch.” Someone said, and pain shot through her other hand, making her jump and grit her teeth against the pain. The figure squeezed Emma’s hand again, as if they knew how it felt and what Emma wanted when she needed it. A sudden tingling feeling ran up her arm and it only took a few moments before she felt the drowsiness and fogginess cloud over her mind. Because of the fog, Emma wasn’t sure about what she heard next, but to her numbing ears, it sounded like,