The Dreams That Were Dreamt

Chapter One: Dandelion & Jupiter

What had he done to me? My hands were tied behind my back. It was some sort of cord made out of plastic. It was clutched tight, and the slightest movement made it dig into my skin. I felt dizzy and I had a slight headache right above my eyes, probably caused by whatever was in that drink. But other than that, I felt fine. In this light, my clothes were intact and looked like how I remembered them. My feet were not tied. I felt like there would be no problem for me to get out of the room and make a run for it. Maybe this was the only chance I had.

But I didn't move. I don't know if I was more scared than I allowed myself to be convinced or if it was some other kind of strange power pinning me to the sweaty sheets. I could hear him. I could hear him walking around outside the bedroom. The door was open and the walls in the hallway lit up irregularly that led me to believe that there was a TV on. I could hear drawers closing, bags opening, mumbling. He seemed stressed, like when you can't find your keys and you are about to miss the bus. What was he going to do with me? I couldn't dare to imagine. In the best of futures, he was planning to leave me here. Maybe he had miscalculated the amount of whatever he put in my drink and he thought that I would be gone for a longer time. If I just pretended to still be asleep, I could plan my escape when I was alone. 

Things didn't turn out that way. As I was devising this plan in my head and trying not to let all the possible scenarios be imagined, there he suddenly appeared, in the doorway, looking at me. The man twice my age, the abductor. He was wearing the same outfit he had on when I first met him. A pair of blue jeans and a red flannel over a grey t-shirt. On top of that he was now wearing a brown suede jacket. The jacket was an indicator that he was planning on going somewhere, with or without me. He looked at me with a blank face, the way you would look at a leak you had found under the kitchen sink. The face of looking at a minor inconvenience. The face I gave him in return must have emoted some sort of fear. Yeah, I was definitely scared.

He walked up to me with long, determined steps. The steps echoed against the walls like he was going to hurt me or force me into unconsciousness again. But as he got closer his disposition suddenly changed and when he was by my feet he sat down on the bed and looked at me with sad eyes. I tried my best to shy away from him, but I could only waddle away an inch or two. It felt like he gave me time to say something, like out of courtesy. ''Please, let me go. I won't tell anyone,'' didn't really feel like a phrase that would fly but that's what I went with. 

''I'm sorry for putting you through this,'' he said and let out a long sigh.

''This wasn't how I initially planned it but here we are,'' he told me as he scratched his thick blonde moustache and his rough stubble. 

''I need you to stay calm and listen to me. I need your full cooperation. I'm not going to hurt you,'' he kept going, giving it a good five seconds between every sentence and waiting for me to nod between every reassurance. My nodding wasn't an agreement to what he was saying, more an indication that I understood what the words he spoke meant. By now I could feel sweat emanating from my palms behind my back. It was a strange sensation to feel liquid on hands that had no feel.

''I'm going to release your hands. Can you stay calm?'' I nodded. I could tell from his hesitation that my nod wasn't as reliable as he wanted it to be. But after letting out yet another sigh he grabbed a hold of my shoulders and turned me around. I heard him pulling out something sharp and after telling me to hold still he cut the plastic cord. In a calm manner, I put my hands in front of me and felt the red indentation in my skin that the cord had created. Slowly, I then turned around and faced him again. I was slightly afraid that he would get aggressive if I made any sudden movements. I did not know what he was capable of.

''Do you have anyone that's going miss you if you disappear,'' he asked me and folded what I now could see was a knife of some sort. The question made a stone fall from my chest down to my stomach. He wasn't planning on letting me go. He must've seen how uneasy the question made me feel. Did I have anyone in my small circle of friends that would call the police? Not for a couple of days, I was sure of. This scared me.