There was a throbbing in her temples and a taste in her mouth as if she had been sucking on dirty pennies. Her body felt heavy and it was hard to focus her thoughts. With a soft groan and using more energy than should probably be necessary. Lindsay struggled to open her eyes, the pain from just her eyelids opening making her frown. Lightning strikes of pain shooting through her skull.
It was dark and took a while for her eyes to adjust until finally she could make out the ceiling above her. Her vision was a bit blurred and the sight before her was confusing. Frowning hurt, she left like she had the time Cassidy had stolen a bottle of her dad’s expensive scotch. They had brought it over to Daniel’s place on movie night. It had been the first time she kissed him, drunk a not entirely in control.
He had been much the gentleman and refused to kiss her a second time, but instead laid her to rest on the couch with a cold, wet cloth and a bucket. In the morning she had felt much like she did right now, head pounding and her surroundings not familiar one. She didn’t recall drinking any alcohol, but at the moment she could recall much of anything. She felt cold and even though she willed herself to move, her limbs felt like they were weighed down by bricks. Groaning softly as she tried to lift her head, closing her eyes as the room became to spin. Her stomach lurched, the smallest of movements sapping away whatever strength she had.
Breathing slow as she frowned and tried to remember what had happened, she recalled going to school. The day slowly playing through her mind, Cassidy’s face, Daniel’s sad eyes, the new teachers. It took a little while before she remembered the man in the mirror, heart leaping into her throat. Her eyes flew open once more as if she would see him looming over her now, but there was no one. Just the ceiling that was not that if her bedroom, there were wooden rafters on display covered with cobwebs.
Flexing her fingers as the heaviness slowly started to leave her limbs, struggling to push herself into a sitting position. Sitting still a moment as she tried hard to keep herself from being sick. Every move she made caused a new wave of nausea to sweep over her, arms moving to wrap around her middle, groaning low. Lindsay closed her eyes a moment so she could get used to sitting upright before she forced herself to open them again. Looking around and straining to see through the darkness, her eyes adjusting slowly, making out an open room.
A dresser and some boxes along one wall, the cot she was on was in the middle of the room. A wooden staircase leading upward on the far side of the room, wasn’t long before she assessed that she was in a basement. Turning sideways and placing her feet on the floor, the coldness was a jolt to her senses causing her to quickly pull her feet back up. Licking her lips and shuddering as the metallic taste still lingered in her mouth and her head throbbed painfully. Pushing herself up onto her feet, her body swayed and she had to stretch out her arms to keep herself steady.
Looking along the tops of the walls for a window, she couldn’t see any. Her eyes not completely accustomed to the darkness of the room so she moved around slowly. A short time later she noticed a plate with a sandwich and a glass of water on the stairs. Frowning a little as she stumbled over, she had no idea how long she had been down here, or where here was. Let alone when the last time she had eaten or had something to drink.
Sitting on the second to last stair and taking up the glass of water she sipped once and groaned. Her mouth so dry she couldn’t stop herself from tipping the glass back and guzzling the contents down. A cooling sensation slowly spilling down her throat and spreading in her belly. Never before in her life had a cool glass of water been so satisfying, or delicious.
It was after she placed the glass back down that faint sound of voices could be heard from above. She was sure it hadn’t been there before, she turned up to look up the staircase. Standing and slowly starting to climb the wooden steps one by one, hands gliding along the railings to help her keep her balance. The light from under the door at the top was the only light in the entire basement. Though it was bright enough to illuminate the stairs and even slightly beyond making it a little easier to navigate the stairs.
Trying the door handle once she reached the top and glaring at it as it didn’t budge. She pressed an ear to the door listening carefully. Trying to see if she could hear who was on the other side. She was able to make out two separate male voices, but they were too far away. Crouching down and trying to listen through the crack at the bottom of the door instead, it was impossible to tell what they were yelling about, just that they seemed to become more and more heated.
Giving up and heading back down the stairs, very tempted to kick the sandwich instead of stepping around it as her mood became dark. She wasn’t afraid so much as she was just angry, which was odd she thought, she should be terrified. Someone had taken her from her bedroom and locked her in a damn basement and instead of feeling fear she was mad as hell. Moving to the nearest wall and slowly walking her way around the outside of the room. There wasn’t a single window to be found now that she made a closer inspection.
What kind of place was this that the basement was windowless? Her scowl deepened and she made her way over to the wall with the boxes and dresser. Pulling open the drawers one by one and finding nothing but female clothing. She pulled every item from the dresser, leaving it all on the floor. Nothing in there she could use to defend herself.
She let out a disgusted scoff and turned to the boxes lining the wall. Finding nothing useful here either. Spinning on her heel and going back to the staircase, glaring down at the empty water glass. She picked it up and turning it in her hand as an idea formed, a smile curling the corners of her lips. She dropped it on the cold cement floor, the tinkling of breaking glass making her stop to listen for the voices to see if they had changed.
She hadn’t been heard over the fight that was going on upstairs. She crouched down to look through the broken pieces for a larger shard. Letting out a hiss as the glass sliced her finger, sticking the tip into her mouth and sucking on it as it throbbed. Retrieving one of the shirts she had thrown on the floor, using it to pick up a chunk of glass. She wrapped the material around one end to create a safe handhold.
Bringing over another shirt to place the other pieces of glass into it. Folding it up and tucking it into one of the dresser drawers. She began to pace back and forth along the width of the room. Shooting a glare at the stairs now and again, her hand clenched around the cloth handle of her glass shank. She let out a sigh as she walked over and sat on the cot in the middle of the room.
With no window to show the outdoors, making it impossible to tell the time of day or even the passing of time. Flopping back on the cot and staring up at the ceiling. Blowing a curl out her eyes and placing a hand on her stomach as it turned and started growl. She decided to get up and brave the sandwich still sitting on the stairs. Lindsay might be stuck here but she shouldn’t starve herself. She would need all the strength she could get. If there were at least two men upstairs, who knew if there were even more beyond what she could hear?
Sitting on the stairs again and picking up the food offering. Her mouth still tasted of dirty pennies, but maybe the sandwich would lessen that slightly. Looking up at the door as she chewed slowly. She wasn’t sure how to escape. If she managed to use the piece of glass to harm someone and to get to the upper floor, the layout of the place was a mystery.
Recalling the two voices as her frown deepened with her thoughts, there could be more. Who was to say that it was only two were here, there could be a second floor. But why her? The only explanation that came to mind that even made a little bit of sense was that these people were unhappy clients of her mother. Perhaps unhappy people whose lawyers had lost against her mother.
Were they going to ransom her back, or was her life in danger? No that couldn’t be it, why would they feed her if she was just going to die? There were too many questions and too many unknown variables. Lindsay sat on the stairs for a long while even after the sandwich was gone, leaning her back against the railing. Her head was starting to hurt again the more she thought about her situation. Suddenly all her energy ebbing away, she could feel her eyelids growing heavy and drifting closed.
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