Fighting off the urge to continue sleeping, Viola slowly began to open her eyes. Her vision was dazed, but could tell that it was unusually dark in her apartment. Thinking that it would be about noon when she awoke, Viola was anticipating dim sunlight peeking through the blinds from the only window in her studio. Body limp and numb from the alcohol consumed last night, she dared to not even try to move or rise.
Closing her eyes again she began to think back to when she got home last night. Embarrassment began to wash over her as she realized that the last thing she could coherently remember was a bartender shouting "last call" and her running over to order another cocktail. Everything after that was a blur.
And yet another wonderful night! Keeping it classy Viola...
Ever since Viola lost her job a month ago everything seemed to be spiraling out of control in her life. She was alienated from her family, lost all of her so-called friends and was spending any money she had left in her savings account on cigarettes and liquor. Every day when she awoke from another one of her black-out, knock-out all nighters she immediately regretted it and wondered when she would reach her bottom.
Taking in a breath, she attempted to see the good in all this.
Well at least I made it home.
With little resolve, Viola attempted to shake off her drunken grogginess and rise from her belly. To her shock she didn't move at all.
Damn, I must be more hungover than I thought.
She tried again and was met with the same result. Panic surged through her body, awakening every nerve. Now alert, she could feel that her wrists were crossed and bound together tightly above her head. She tried to roll over to her side, but discovered that her legs were spread apart and tied down at her ankles. Feeling the restraints against her bare wrists, she guessed them to be leather. The boots and clothes she wore last night still seemed to be on her.
Even though she laid on her stomach, her head was turned to the side. As her cheeks warmed from the sudden rush of blood, Viola could tell that she was laying on a bare mattress. She lightly tugged at the straps and heard the sound of metal creaking. Her fear escalated as she realized that she couldn't be in her apartment. Viola may not have been the cleanest person in the world, but she made sure that she had her cheap Target bed sheets on at all times. Also, she had no metal headboard on her bed (no bed frame either, her mattress sat on box springs that were directly on the floor).
Fear steadily elevated towards hysteria. The new emotional distress mixed with the physical pains of a pounding headache and dehydration were making Viola feel ill. She opened her mouth breathing in and letting out air as fast as she could. Hope flashed as it dawned upon her that her mouth was not covered or gagged. For a moment she didn't feel so helpless and found a way to let out all of the anxiety building up inside. Shutting her eyes and clenching every muscle in her body, Viola took a breath in. Pausing for a moment she let it all out in a scream, one so loud it shook her own ear drums.
***
It seemed like she'd been screaming for about thirty minutes until Viola lost the strength to continue. Her chest collapsed against the mattress, throat sore from screaming nonstop. Taking slow shallow breaths into her mouth, she kicked herself for what she'd just done.
That did more harm than good.
Viola was still trapped in the same position she was in before, now with even more physical pain wrenching her body.
Shutting her eyes in defeat, Viola began to try and think what her next course of action should be. Surely someone must have heard her? She feared maybe no one was around. That she was in some abandoned building in downtown with no trace of life for miles. Before her alarm could consume her once more, Viola tried to reason with herself that she couldn't be completely isolated in a city this big. Someone had to be around, even if she were taken to an abandoned part of town. At the very least some homeless people would be hanging out around to hear her.
Yeah that's exactly what I need. Some homeless, crackhead, good Samaritan coming to my rescue.
As she took in another gulp of air, a sensation rushed over her body. Her eyes were in vertigo. To keep from vomiting, Viola shut them tight and bit down on her bottom lip.
Please keep it down... God, please don't let me throw up. It was the last thing she needed right now.
Her pleading must have worked because as fast as her nausea came, it left. Eyes still closed, Viola's mind began to drift off to blackness. Having no energy to fight it, she let the dark take over her.
***
To Viola's surprise, when she awoke again her body was in a new position. She now sat upright with her back resting on the headboard. Her arms were raised on both sides, once again bound by leather. Her legs were crossed over each other, with her ankles bound tight to the footboard.
As she slowly lifted her head around to see if she could make anything out in the darkness, a bright light illuminated the room from her right-side. Blinded by the intense contrast, she turned her head to the left and shut her eyes. Heavy footsteps echoed into the room. A light switch flicked and more light began to shine above her.
Growing accustomed to the luminescence, she turned her head into the direction of the first illumination. The light had come through a door and standing in the doorway was a man. Her eyes weren't completely adjusted yet, so she couldn't make out any details. What she could perceive at the moment was that he was wearing a black suit and that he was tall, very tall. Even though she was sitting she could tell that if she were to stand, he'd tower over her. That was something she wasn't accustomed to thanks to her modelesque height.
The man shut the door behind him, removing about half of the bright intensity from the room. Looking around briefly, Viola could finally see how small the room really was.
Damn, and I thought my studio was cramped.
There wasn't much to look at. The walls were grey and concrete, and the only furniture in it was the queen size bed that she sat on. Looking forward, she saw that she was right in guessing that the headboards were some sort of metal. The frame appeared to be in an antique style with a brass iron color. She was also dead on in guessing that leather was what was tying her down.
Viola quickly looked over her body and saw that she was wearing the same long-sleeved green sweater dress from last night with black knee-high boots and ribbed tights. From what she could see there didn't seem to be any damage to her body and couldn't feel any pain, aside from the hangover she was recovering from.
Once she finished checking her surroundings, Viola's eyes went back to the man in the doorway. She decided that the best way to go about this would be to show no fear. To be calm and collected, so she could figure who he was and where he'd taken her.
As the man began to take a step towards her, she immediately felt her panic returning. "Who the fuck are you and what the hell is going on?"
Oh well, being calm is overrated anyway.
His response was a crooked smile.
This only irritated her further. "I'm fucking serious!" Her voice began to sound scratchy. Most likely due to all the screaming she had done earlier.
His smile only widened, now showing perfect teeth. He walked closer to her and with each step she noticed a new feature on his face. The man had dark green eyes, as mesmerizing as emeralds. The intensity of his eyes were magnified due to his fair skin. He was cleanly shaven with thick brown hair combed back. The smile on his face revealed round cheekbones and strong lips, the bottom one slightly larger than the top. Judging from his appearance, she guesstimated his age to be somewhere from late twenties to early thirties. Whoever he was, she couldn't deny that he was quite handsome.
The man stood over the footboard. Now that he was closer, she saw that he had a water bottle in his hand. Tilting her head to it she asked, "What the fuck is that for?"
Yet again this only made him smile, this time an eye roll was accompanied with it. "My, my, what a mouth you have."
She was surprised at how calm his voice was when he spoke. She felt slightly embarrassed for her own tone.
Maybe calm isn't as overrated as I thought...
"At any rate, this was for you." He held up the water bottle and pointed the cap in her direction. "I figured you would need it for your hangover, not to mention for your throat. Judging from the sound of your voice, I'm guessing you need something to soothe it from all that screaming you were doing earlier."
She was shocked at how nonchalantly he spoke of that. She was screaming her damned head off and he didn't do anything? He didn't even check on her. Rage replaced any shame that lingered.
