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I backed away as he walked towards me, my feet hitting the back of the couch and forcing me to stop. The man lunged at me, grabbing my neck, and I started clawing at his hands and arms, screaming. I had no idea what he was doing, or why, or how. My first instinct had been to run, but it was too late.
Ihadto fight back.
I kicked and flailed, trying to get him off of me, but he was too strong. He pinned me down on the couch, his rough hands gripping my throat tighter and tighter. I struggled to breathe, my vision going blurry.
A surge of adrenaline shot through me, giving me the strength to fight back despite knowing that I was about to lose. I kneed him in the groin, which caused him to grunt in pain. Then I clawed at his face, raking my fingernails down his cheeks.
He let go of my neck, and I gasped for air, choking. I tried to push him away, but he was too heavy. He punched me in the face, and I felt a hot, searing pain shoot through my nose. Blood gushed out, and I tasted the copper in my mouth.
I knew I was in trouble.
”Fucking bitch,” I heard.
And then I didn't hear anything else.
Chapter Three: Sofia
WhenIpictureddying,I didn’t picture this.
The pain would come later. I knew it–if pain came at all. There was the smell of sawdust around me, the thump-thump-thump sound of Reggeaton music somewhere in the background.
Above me, maybe.
I didn’t expect death to taste like sawdust and sweat and fog.
I opened my eyes, and the world swam in and out of focus. I could see storage, boxes packed around the walls, black, indistinct from one another. I tried to move, but my limbs were heavy, uncooperative. I didn’t realize I was sitting up until I tried to use my hands. They were bound to a chair, the rope biting into my raw skin.
I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but it only made things worse. The air was thick with the scent of cigarette smoke, making it hard to breathe. I coughed and tried to speak, but my throat was raw, my voice barely a whisper.
”Hello?” I croaked. ”Who's there?”
There was no answer, only the sound of reggaeton music getting louder. I strained my ears, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. It was coming from a door at the far end of the room.
I squinted, trying to make out any details. The door looked old, with peeling paint and rusted hinges. There was no way out of here, not unless I managed to break free.
I struggled against the ropes, but they were too tight. I cursed under my breath, my heart racing.
What had I gotten myself into?
Fuck. I could think about that later. I might’ve been bound to the chair, but the chair didn’t seem like it was bound to anything, so it only took me a few seconds to realize that I could drag myself across the floor with my feet.
Steeling myself, trying to swallow down my fear, I tried to inch myself across the ground, my bare feet scraping against the concrete floor. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins, making my heart pound, but I was exhausted–far more than I’d ever been.
Clenching my teeth, I pulled myself closer to the door, my bare feet growing raw and bloody as I dragged myself across the ground. As the chair scraped against the concrete floor, I slowly became aware of the pain. My head pounded, I could feel dull pain around my eyes, my mouth tasted of blood and my lips were numb.
I tried not to focus on that. I tried, instead, to think about how much closer I was to the door now, even though the journey there had felt eternal.
As I approached it, I heard the sound of the music become more muted. And then I heard voices arguing right outside the door. They were loud, angry. Two male voices, speaking indistinctly.
I lunged forward, my body screaming with agony as I scrambled towards the door, haphazardly pushing myself against the wall.
It was a terrible mistake.
I hadn’t been careful; I’d thrown myself with all the momentum I had so I could hear the argument but all I’d managed to do was tip the chair on its side.
The impact made me wince. The pain was enough to make me nauseous. For a second, I was certain I'd broken my shoulder.
I bit down on my lip to stop myself from screaming and tried to ignore the pain as I strained to listen. Still, I couldn’t discern anything, and my pounding headache didn’t make it any easier.
