1. Dahlia #2

The first thing I’d do if I ever got this fucking collar off would be to scream as loud as I possibly could.

My throat ached at the thought, and I drew in a slow breath, steadying myself as I sat in the arm chair, my eyes unfocusing as I began to recede into the safety of my own head.

Sometimes I wished I knew how long I’d been in here, but other times I was happier not knowing; I might snap completely if I knew just how much time I’d wasted away in here.

I wonder who had noticed I’d gone missing first. I didn’t have any family left, at least none who would notice I disappeared.

My dad had never been around, and my mom had died when I was freshly twenty, leaving me an orphan.

Maybe Josh would’ve noticed, he normally talked to me daily and had a spare key to my place.

I bet he had checked on me when I stopped answering my phone.

Or maybe it had been Amanda, I think I had plans for dinner with her the week I was taken, she would’ve been texting to check on me when I bailed on her.

The head of my department would’ve noticed when I didn’t appear in class the next morning, I had never even called in sick before.

Who knew, even if they did report me as missing, how would the police track me here?

I didn’t even know where here was. Was I still in the same city?

I thought I heard somewhere that the first forty eight hours were the most crucial.

I didn’t know how long I’d been down here, but I knew for sure that it was longer than forty eight hours.

I hated to think that they probably assumed I was dead already. Would I even get a funeral?

A tear rolled down my cheek, and I clenched my fist until my nails bit into my skin, drawing me back.

When the tears dried up, I pulled myself to stand, wincing at the burning on my back as I shuffled to the bed.

I knelt down against the thin comforter and lowered myself onto my stomach, giving my aching back a small reprieve.

There was a creak as I sank my weight against the mattress, and I closed my eyes to keep them from betraying me with anymore tears.

I let out a steady sigh, feeling my heartbeat pound between my temples, and I wished I had more water.

Another floorboard creaked, and it almost seemed like it came from above me.

I held myself still, listening so hard I began to hear imaginary noises.

It happened sometimes, my mind tried to comfort me by producing noises to mask the ambient silence.

I exhaled softly, and I swore I could hear someone yelling from far away.

It was truly amazing how the mind could break down in the absence of stimulus.

A thump had me opening my eyes. That one sounded almost real.

Another bang, and this one made the locks rattle against the wooden door.

I stayed as still as possible, trying to think if I had done something to upset the person keeping me here.

Oh god, what if I had bled on the dress?

I couldn’t check, but that didn’t matter, if I’d ruined it, I didn’t want to think about the pain I’d be in tomorrow.

I struggled to sit up, but only managed to slide myself off the bed, landing on my knees as I held onto the covers to keep myself upright.

I felt small vibrations in the concrete, and I wondered for one unhinged moment if I was somehow moving, if this room was actually just an elaborate trailer attached to a truck being hauled from town to town.

The door shuddered violently, and dust rained from the ceiling.

I clutched the comforter until my knuckles were white, staring frozen as the door shuddered once more before slamming open, bits of wood and drywall showering across the room.

I flinched, closing my eyes as lights filled the room, momentarily blinding me.

I heard voices— real voices!- shouting all at once, and I squinted to try and see who was there.

“-holy fuck, this one’s still alive. Radio for EMS immediately, we’ve got one female, responsive, requiring medical assistance!

” The noise was almost overwhelming after living so long in silence.

I raised my hands to cover my ears, catching the flash of metal as the lights spread out to surround me.

Metal, like a badge. It was a badge, attached to someone in a vest that read FBI.

Oh god! I lunged forward, trying to stand, but my legs were jello, and I fell instead.

Strong arms caught me, and I clutched onto them, refusing to let go, scared that if I did I’d wake up and be alone again.

“Can you hear me? Can you tell me your name?” someone asked, and I nearly answered, the words rose to my lips before I clamped my mouth shut, biting my tongue until it bled.

My vision was tunneling, the noise around me fading out like I was losing the signal.

I looked up and caught a pair of blue eyes before my eyes shuttered closed.

My name is Dahlia Porter.

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