Chapter 2: Secrets
The biting cold of the tiled floor embraced me.
I was quickly losing consciousness. The line between reality and fantasy was becoming exceedingly difficult to distinguish.
My vision began to blur. Colours merged together to make one, and spots clouded my vision.
Then,
nothing.
My eyes fluttered open. Colours flashed before my eyes. Black, blue and purple. Allowing my eyes to become accustomed to the dim lighting of the room, I took a deep breath and stared straight forward. An aching pain made my head throb uncomfortably.
Gathering my thoughts and attempting to push aside the increasing pain in my head, I carefully scrutinised the room.
To my right sat an antique drawer that was such a deep brown that, to the untrained eye, it seemed black. Accompanying this drawer was a lamp with a temperamental filament bulb that kept flashing on and off.
On
and off.
On and
off.
It could probably give someone an epilepsy fit!
Opposite this, on the left side of the room was a small window, the view obscured by mist and the clouds rumbling in a cacophonous symphony above.
An uncontrollable rage stirred deep inside me.
What gives someone the right to knock me out and cage me like I'm some rabid animal?!
How dare he treat me like a prisoner in this shit-hole?!
My thoughts were interrupted when a light tap sounded against the door. The door was old; you could tell by looking at it. Scratches etched their way along it, and the hinges appeared to be ready to fall off, they were enveloped in rust. The door knob tipped precariously off it's screw, or whatever kept it attached to the door.
"Enter," I ordered, my voice the epitomy of a cold, unfeeling and assertive woman.
I scoffed quietly. As if I can be classed as a woman. I looked into the window to examine my reflection in the glass. My auburn hair cascaded down my back, contrasting my deathly pale skin and hazel eyes ringed with gold. My petite figure and pale complexion were what always got me bullied at school, but personally, I like the size of my body. The small size let me to hide in tight spaces, and it was perfect for gymnastics, the only thing I took joy in at my fucking school.
Footsteps cautiously approached me from behind.
I whipped round.
And found myself inspecting a girl about my age, 17, who had fawn hair, sun-kissed skin, full lips and who was blessed with stunning silver eyes, as if the Moon herself had granted her them.
Before I became engrossed in my own thoughts again, I cleared my throat and questioned, "Who are you? Why am I in this room?" When she failed to answer immediately my voice began to rise and soon became a bellow "WHO DARED TO KNOCK ME UNCONSCIOUS?! WHAT SON OF A BITCH DO I NEED TO PUNISH? ANSWER MY QUESTIONS, GODDAMIT!"
Standing tall, the unnamed girl insisted "Calm down. I haven't done anything to harm you. If you want answers you have to quiet down, otherwise your uncle will get suspicious with all the racket you are making. I'm Lauren, by the way. Lauren Davenport. Who are you?
"I'm Jasmine. What are you doing here?"
"Trying to help you escape, idiot."
"Well sorry if I didn't expect you to be here to save me when I've just woken up after being whacked in the back of my fucking skull!" I hiss, exasperated.
"I'm sorry for the less than ideal way I transported you here, but from what I've heard about you, you are very stubborn and what I need to show you is of upmost importance, hence the rough transportation. Once again I apologi-"
"YOU WERE THE ONE WHO KNOCKED ME OUT!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MY HEAD HURTS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE OF YOUR FUCKING TRANSPORTATION METHODS?! NO. I DIDN'T THINK SO BECAUSE YOU AREN'T THE ONE WHO WAS KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS!"
"Want to repeat that? I don't think they heard you in Australia," replied Lauren.
So the girl does have some backbone after all.
"We must leave with haste, before he catches us." she continues, once again upholding her cold demeanour.
Lauren, who I have decided to nickname Moonchild because of her silver eyes, hastily tiptoed out of the aged and decaying door, motioning at me to follow her.