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How is that possible? Am I really that drugged up?

Amy started screaming for help, and her mother backhanded her.

“I said shut up,” she hissed again. Her blond wig slid out from underneath her hood.

“I will not shut up!” Amy yelled. She pushed her feet against the bottom of the cabinets and got some leverage that allowed her to kneel up. She made a grab for her mother’s wrists.

“Goddammit, be still, you little cunt!”

Amy froze. It wasn’t just the word, it was the fact that it was said with a man’s voice. She heard clicking, then a hiss. He was turning on her stove. She cringed. She didn’t want another kitchen fire.

He pulled a roll of tape out of a black tote bag.

Where had that bag come from? How did I miss all of this? Who is he?

Amy opened her mouth to scream again and he slammed his fist into her face. Everything went black.

She blinked. Then blinked again. When she could finally focus again, she was staring up into a pit of black. Where was she? It smelled like cedar. She was in one of her closets.

She tried to stand up, but she couldn’t get her hands beneath her to help herself up, and that’s when she realized that they were taped behind her back. She felt wool touch her face. She was stuck on the floor of her coat closet with her hands tied behind her back.

Her eyes started to water and she coughed, but it wouldn’t come out. Dammit, there was tape across her mouth.

I’m not going to cry, goddammit!

Her eyes started to stream.

There’s smoke!

That man was setting her house on fire with her in it.

No! This is not going to happen.

The smoke was getting thicker, but at least she was down low where she had the most air available. She heard someone whimpering and realized it was her making that noise.

Stop!

Get your damn self out of the closet. Ryker’s going to come over. He needs to be able to find you.

She pushed herself up the wall of the closet, inch by inch by inch. Finally, she was standing up, with a coat over her head that she couldn’t seem to get untangled from.

She kept trying to look harder, thinking she would find the doorknob.

“Amy!” Ryker yelled.

“Amy, where are you!”

Amy flailed around inside the coat, wanting to make noise so Ryker could hear her. All she heard was the roaring of the flames.

Concentrate.

“Amy. Where are you, Honey?”

She stopped herself from uselessly flailing and instead closed her eyes, since they were useless anyway, and thought about where the door was, and then where the doorknob would be. When she had the picture solidified in her mind, she took two steps forward and knocked her knee into the door. She turned around and bent, and her fingers touched the knob, turned it, and pushed.

Nothing.

She tried again. She turned the knob and pushed.