Chapter 2 Rosalind
Rosalind
MAKE ME WANNA DIE - THE PRETTY RECKLESS ?
“Hello,” I call out. My eyes are wide open, but there's so little light in here that I can barely see anything.
That's twice this evening I could have used my phone, a call to safety, and a flashlight to banish this infernal dark.
I'm never leaving anywhere again without it.
First thing I'm doing when I get it back is buying a wrist strap and never taking it off.
I can't hear the men outside, but I'm not going to open this door for anything, so I guess my only path out is forward.
“Hello?” I try again. Someone must have let me in.
Based on what little I could see, it's not a door that just pops open by itself. “Anyone?”
Fanning my face to try and get some air moving, I remove my coat, taking a few steps forward.
My hand stretches in front of me, not quite wildly waving, but close to it, trying to find anything.
A seat. Another door. A wall. My shoulder sagging when my fingers graze the smooth surface, warm to the touch, but considering it's like a furnace in here, I'm not surprised.
Unwrapping my scarf, I drape it over my arm and reach out to find the guiding path of the wall again. The faint light where I stood is near non-existent now, and I look into a void of darkness.
My footsteps echo, my feet swelling with every step.
Sweat rolls down my spine, dripping off my face so frequently that I’m hesitant to back track in case I slip.
The only path is forward. The heat is stifling.
I slouch down the wall to remove my shoes, followed closely by my stockings.
Despite the winter cold, my father insisted I wear business appropriate clothing to the meeting.
A pencil skirt, pantyhose, and a silk shirt were approved despite my request to wear pants.
If someone can see me in this never ending corridor, then they might very well be getting a bit of a show. Good for them.
Leaving my coat and scarf behind, I hold onto my heels in the hope that I can hastily don them.
The heat, though, is like breathing fire.
My shirt sticking to my skin as the sweat rolls off me.
Unfastening the first few buttons, my shirt falls open, but it does nothing to dampen my temperature, so I quickly untuck it, not caring when I hear it drop to the floor along with my heels.
If I concentrate enough, it almost feels like a breeze is moving the stagnant air around me.
Several more steps, and the only logical decision is to remove my skirt. Modesty be damned.
Why is this hallway so bloody long?
The stifling air comes alive as it circles around me.
My ears strain for noise, my eyes throb as they try to find something to focus on.
Everything is still pitch black, and it feels like it's only getting hotter, but that's okay because I'm not going back.
Forward steps only. Somewhere deep down, I feel this tug that I'm going in the right direction.
I'm not scared, and the men who were following me are merely an afterthought, this cursed heat searing them from my mind.
My bralette chafes under my arms, and my panties dig into my hips.
I couldn't…
I couldn't take them off, could I?
That would be utterly scandalous, but also the thought of my naked body walking among the scalding air, laid bare for the wisp of a fresh current, causes my nipples to harden.
That would be glorious.
That will make me feel better.
Hastily, I remove my underwear, my fingers finding comfort from the wall I follow.
My body feels every breath of movement, every caress as it roams around me.
Touching my skin in such a way, it feels like a thousand hands are lightly stroking me.
The breeze I thought was an illusion only minutes earlier, no longer a fantasy.
My head lolls back, my eyes closing as a soft sigh escapes me. This is true peace. This feeling overflowing within me is everything good and positive you can imagine.
This must be what heaven feels like, even though it's hot enough for hell, I like it. It's soothing.
I rock my head from left to right, the stretch easing the remaining tension from my body. Opening my eyes, I tilt my head in confusion. I should see nothing–black.
Can I see…
Can I see light?
Yes, yes, I can. A small sliver of light that you might see under a closed door shines in the distance. An end to this never-ending path. The air is no longer uncomfortable. It feels dry and pleasant to move within, almost charged, excitement tingling just below the surface.
A door. A door!
Where does it go?
Who will be waiting for me on the other side?
It's like I'm on my own journey for the first time in my life.
I'm calling the shots, deciding what to do and how to act.
I feel like I've been transported to a place that I might belong.
It's probably the back entrance to a ‘mom and pop’ takeaway, but I'm sure they will take pity and help me.
Whatever lies on the other side of that door is thrilling, I can feel it in every part of my being.
The light becomes more defined as I get closer, and it's definitely the outline of a door.
Reaching out to where I think a handle will be, my fingers clasp a warm metal ring, as though they were guided by the pull of a magnet.
Like this was meant to be.
The stars have aligned for me to get this taste of freedom.
I first pull the door, and… nothing happens, well, that's embarrassing.
I quickly push it with more strength than necessary, stumbling forward, unable to catch my footing as I fall onto dry, hard dirt.
Instantly snapping my eyes shut, the juxtaposition from pitch black to glaring white is too much, and despite my eyes being closed, the light shines through my lids, blinding me.