102 Nikki

Fuzzy. Everything is fuzzy, clearing only when I give a few dry blinks. The first thing that comes into my vision is Bronson. Relief flows through me as I see him staring blankly at me. His head is titled, as If tired from holding it up at an awkward angle and the blood that was coming from his face has now dried all over his shirt. His eyes glance me over, and once he sees that I am awake, he sits up startled and looks around the room, then back to me.

“Nikki?”

I nod my head, not knowing what else to do, and that’s when all the blanks fill in. I’m sitting in a chair, same as Bronson. My hands are tied to the arms of the chair with zip ties and around my waist and legs are a tight rope cutting into the skin. I shake my head and close my eyes, making a mental note of how I feel.

My head is hurting, but not a skull splitting kind of pain. My hands and legs hurt, most likely from how tight my ties are, and my lips feel swollen, in desperate need of water.