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I frowned. What was the purpose of it? Did I even want to know?
I pushed the bucket away and crawled toward the bolt in the floor, so the chains would be looser and allow me more rangeof motion. I rubbed my eyes and forehead, but the headache didn’t let up. I ran my hands through my long, tangled hair and discovered it was wet and glued to my scalp at the back of my head. When I looked at my fingers, they were caked with red. Blood.
I must’ve hit my head, and that was why everything was so muddy and confusing. I couldn’t string two coherent thoughts together. Okay, I’d been kidnapped, but how? When? I didn’t know what day it was, and to my utter horror, I realized that no matter how hard I tried to remember the last thing I’d done, or the last place I’d been, my mind went blank.
I tried harder. There had to be something. A memory...
What had I done the day before? What was the last thing I ate?
Maybe I was going home, and that was when they took me. Who were they? I tried to remake the itinerary in my head and soon realized that I couldn’t picture anything. Not my house, and not the place I was presumably coming from.
Gripped by shock, I sat there with my eyes wide, staring at the wall. Since my memory didn’t seem to work, what else could I do for myself right now? Using my awareness, I quickly checked my body to see where it hurt and if I’d been... touched in any way. My muscles ached, but aside from that, I was fine. My head hurt the worst. My clothes were intact, albeit dirty.
“What is happening?” I whispered, just to check that my voice was working. “Who would do such a thing? And to me... Why me?”
I racked my brain for a few more minutes, but it refused to cooperate. I was willing to bet the wound at the back of my head was the culprit. I wondered how I got it. Had someone hit me over the head with something heavy? Had I fallen and hurt myself? So many questions, and not a single answer my brain could deliver.
“Hey!” I yelled or tried to. My voice was weak, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey! Let me out! Help! Help!”
I pulled at the chains, rattling them as loudly as I could. Then I started banging my feet on the ground, all the while screaming for help.
I did this until I tired myself out and my voice stopped working. The headache was so bad that I had to crawl back onto the mattress and lie down. I started crying silently, feeling the tears roll down my face.
I didn’t understand why this was happening to me. Did I have enemies? I couldn’t remember. Was this random? Had I been in the wrong place at the wrong time? The statistics said that most women were kidnapped by people they knew. It rarely happened that they were kidnapped by strangers. I tried to think really hard about the people in my life, but my mind drew a blank again, and the panic was back, gripping my chest. There was something really wrong with me if I couldn’t remember anything.
I heard footsteps beyond the door, and I stilled. They came closer and closer, and then I heard a key in the lock. My heart started galloping in my chest. I sat up again, pulling my knees in and trying to make myself small. The door opened, and there was light on the other side. A shadow appeared in the doorway, and I could tell immediately that it was a man.
“You’re awake,” he said in a flat tone.
He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. In his hands, he carried a box. He reached for a string that I now noticed was dangling from the ceiling, pulled it, and a light bulb came to life. It illuminated his face, and I saw he was young, maybe in his late thirties, with black hair and dark eyes that looked dull behind thick-framed glasses. He didn’t look like a kidnapper at all. He didn’t look like a bad guy. More like aregular guy who seemed mildly bored with everything around him.
“Who are you?” I asked. “Why are you doing this?”
He walked over to me and placed the box on the floor.
“How are you feeling, Maya?”
My eyes widened at the sound of my name. I hadn’t thought to check if I remembered my name. I did so now, and it came to me easily – Maya Lucas.
Okay. Maya Lucas. What did Maya Lucas do? Where did she work? Where did she live?
Blank. Blank. Blank.
I felt like crying, but I didn’t want to cry in front of him.
“I think I hit my head,” I said, testing the waters.
He nodded. “You put on a fight. I hadn’t expected you to. Look at you, you’re tiny. What were you thinking, kicking and screaming like that? And now you have a concussion. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
I couldn’t believe his words! So, he was the one who’d kidnapped me. Looking at him, it was true that he was taller, bigger, and stronger than me. I guess I’d never thought a guy with glasses would be capable of something so nefarious.
“Is that why I can’t remember anything?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What do you remember?”
“My name. That’s all. And only because you called me Maya, and then it came to me... Maya Lucas.”
“That’s right. You’re Maya Lucas. Before you say I got the wrong person, let me assure you I did not. You’re the right person, Maya. Exactly what I need.” He crouched down and opened the box. “But I’ll need to confirm it by running some tests.”
