Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Seven
I woke up to a deafening silence. Not the peaceful kind that comes with morning birdsong or the hum of distant traffic, but the kind that was thick and unnatural, that made it feel like the world had stopped breathing. 

It felt dark, awful, and scary, making me jerk from the foamy surface on which I found myself.

My eyes fluttered open, and immediately, pain surged through my skull. A pounding headache throbbed behind my temples, each beat like a hammer against bone.

I looked up at the ceiling above me and I almost jumped out of the bed from its look.  

It was cracked, stained, and had its plaster peeling like old skin. 

I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of the room as it didn't feel like the one I woke up to every morning, but the more I tried to, the more confused I was.

The air was damp and heavy with the scent of mold and something metallic. It felt like no one had been here in ages and the atmosphere was stale.

My limbs felt like lead and my mouth was as dry as sandpaper. I tried to sit up, but my body protested, every movement sending waves of nausea rolling through me.

Where was I? I thought to myself. 

I scanned the room closely, it was a very large space, almost double the size of a normal sitting room.

The walls were yellowed and grimy, the floorboards warped and creaking. My heart sank in fear.

At the side of it was a small single window that let in a sliver of light, filtered through grime and dust. 

The bed beneath me was lumpy, covered in a threadbare sheet that smelled like mildew and it was at this moment that I realized that I wasn't dreaming as I had thought. Panic began to stir in my chest, and then my hands began to quiver with dread. 

I quickly got off the bed like a scorpion had stung me, I could not bear to lie on such a disgusting surface for one more second, or else I would puke. 

As I got off the bed, I tried not to hold the sheet for support, but that was practically impossible as I fell hard into it again. I groaned in anger. 

Highly irritated and infuriated, I got off the bed again, and landed on my bare feet, on the very dusty floor. 

I quickly began to make my way towards the door that led to God knows where, while I tried to rack my brain about how I got into this dungeon. 

It was early in the morning and the sun had not yet risen, so it must have happened last night, I thought. 

I hit my head on my way out, trying to recall the incident from the night before and then I began to get flashbacks.

Firstly, I recalled that my daughter was not here with me and then I remembered that I had dropped her off with my aunt. 

I remembered entering a bar in a bid to drown my sorrows and escape my terrible reality and then I remembered the man who offered to help me out of the bar. 

I remembered the car, his smooth and husky voice that sounded reassuring. I remembered how he almost swore that I was in safe hands, and how I just lay my head on the car seat, waiting to be carried home like a passenger princess.  

I remembered that I had laughed at something he said, after which I leaned against the window, soaking in the calmness and wind of the night. I remembered the hum of the engine, the blur of streetlights, and the warmth of the alcohol in my veins. And then… nothing. Just blackness.

I had fallen asleep! I had passed out before we could reach my destination. 

My heart began to race.

I looked down at myself as I stood at the door and I froze.

This wasn’t my dress. I had never owned one of this sort and it looked like it had been gotten from the trash bin.

The fabric was rough, faded, and torn at the hem. It hung loosely on my frame, exposing too much. 

But I was greeted with another surprise as I reached down and realized that I had nothing underneath. No bra, no panties, and the black short that I wore underneath my dress the day before was nowhere to be found. 

My breath caught in my throat and my skin prickled with dread. 

I touched my arms, my thighs, my stomach, feeling the layer of skin over them and there were bruises; faint but unmistakable.

“No,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “No, no, no…”

I curled into myself, clutching my knees and rocking gently as the realization clawed its way into my chest.

Tears streamed down my face freely, hot and bitter. I sobbed into my palms, muffling the sound as if silence could undo what had happened.

I had trusted him and given him the chance to give me a lift home like he'd requested, like a gentleman that he had clad himself as, but here I was, in this place that felt like a nightmare, badly handled, taken advantage of, and abandoned to rot all alone. 

I stumbled to my feet, dizzy and disoriented. The room spun around me, causing my legs to tremble beneath me, and barely able to hold my weight. 

I moved out through the door, into the narrow passage, each step a battle against nausea and fear.

The hallway outside was dim, lit only by a flickering bulb that buzzed like a dying insect. As I walked further, the floor creaked beneath me. 

“Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out, my voice hoarse, but there was no answer.

I moved toward what looked like a reception desk, hoping and praying that someone would be there, maybe a caretaker, cleaner, just anyone at least but the lobby was a ghost town.

The desk was covered in dust like it had not been used in decades; the telephone was missing and an old guestbook lay open, its pages yellowed and blank. 

Cobwebs hung from the corners of the hall like curtains and the walls of the room told the tales of how they were once white. 

There was not a trace of any individual or animate object, except for the roaches and insects that crawled on the messy floor. The silence was suffocating.

I turned in circles, my panic all over the roof. My breath came in short gasps as I continued with my movement out of the lobby area, walking as fast as my legs could carry me. 

I felt like I was being watched, even though I knew I was alone. The walls seemed to close in and the shadows stretched like claws, making me escape into the daylight. 

Outside, the world was very bright, super quiet but not peaceful. The building stood isolated, surrounded by overgrown grass and rusted fences. There were no cars, and no people like a normal guest house had. The only thing that made a sound was my heartbeat and it was thudding in my ears.

As soon as I was out, I collapsed onto the ground, sobbing again. My fingers dug into the dirt as if anchoring myself to something real and solid.

In there, it felt like an alien world, but I was glad that I had gotten out. My fears had subsided a bit and now I was left with the thoughts of this strange man. 

How could I remember his gaze but not his face? I had laughed with him, asked him questions, and even got assured by him, and to crown it all, I even let him drive me home.

Thoughts of reporting the incident to the nearest police station crowded my mind but how could I report a crime when I had no idea who the perpetrator was, what he looked like, his car, or his address. 

I was so disappointed in myself for letting down my guard for a total stranger. I was trying to escape one trouble and in the process, I'd procured another one. 

I felt broken, violated, and lost and I was not coping fine at all, but beneath the despair, something else stirred; a flicker and a spark. 

I was still here, alive and breathing, and so I could not let this moment define me.

I looked across the quiet lane, but it was devoid of humans. I didn’t know where I was, nor did I know how I would get home but I knew that I had to move and find help before I got into another trouble. I had to reclaim the pieces of myself that had been scattered in the dark.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, stood up confidently, even though I was uncertain of my next move, and started walking.

Each step was heavy and each breath was a struggle but I was determined to make it through this tough time. 

So, I kept going. I was May and I could not be buried in this storm.