Wonderfully Wandering Alone

A violently cold chill coursing through my body awoke me the next day.

Every part of me was shaking as I took deep breaths in, noticing that my ankles and wrists were cuffed together with heavy chains.

I calmed down after a minute or so, then looked around to see that I was in an insanely white room.

A toilet, sink, small dresser, end table, and the uncomfortable bed I was seated upon were the only things in the room. A very menacing door was placed across the room from my bed, causing my stomach to clench with anxiety.

Not knowing what to do, I pulled my legs into myself, then wrapped my arms around them as best I could to be somewhat comfortable.

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine myself in my own bedroom, hearing the sounds of my brother yelling profanities at the television in a comforting setting from my life before I had been taken.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I remembered that my brother and friends probably had no idea what had happened to me. My brother probably knows where I am... but I doubt he knows what has actually happened to me.

They probably think I'm dead.

I then realized that I hadn't even thought of my family or my friends at all since I had been taken away from them.

I'm so selfish.

The tears flowed even more at that thought, but I did not wipe them away, causing my vision to blur intensely. Pretty soon, my crying had become so loud and obnoxious that I was hiccuping and coughing, trying to get air into my lungs.

I continued crying, even when I heard the door click open and someone quickly step over to me.

My face was soon covered by my hands as the person rubbed my back in a soothing motion, shushing in my ear to quiet me down.

I shook my head back and forth, not wanting to believe that I had been so foolish to trust Pete after what I had been told.

After a while, the person had stopped rubbing my back, but instead wrapped their arms around me, whispering words of comfort in my ear.

I calmed down just enough for me to stop hiccuping, but the tears remained.

I turned into the person, not caring who it was, and clutched my hands to my chest, closed my eyes, and nestled my head into their chest. They tensed at first, but quickly adjusted to hold me as if I were a baby or a small child, running their fingers through my hair as I cried into their shirt.

Many minutes or even hours (either of which, I didn't know) passed before my body had stopped shaking and the tears stopped falling from my eyes.

I pulled away from the person, harshly wiping at my eyes to remove the final traces of salt water before I turned to see the face of the man who had comforted me.

I gasped as my own eyes met a pair of familiar chocolate brown eyes that I thought I would never be relieved to see.

"Brendon?"

"It's okay, Ver. I'm not going to hurt you. You're worth so much more to me than a meal."