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If I Die
When was the last time you were scared? I mean really wet your pants scared. For me it's right now.
I have just woken up. No, let me rephrase that. To have woken would have suggested that I was asleep to start with and that I cannot be sure of. In fact, my very existence here at this present moment in time is somewhat of a debate that is raging away in my head.
You see, I cannot remember anything prior to me just suddenly being conscious here. I have no recognition of my name, age or where I was before. The only senses I'm fully aware of is the primeval one that is rushing through me right now. Fear!
I'm restrained in a rough-wooden chair. The seat is high, same as the back. My wrists are bound to the arms with thick brown leather straps. The same goes for my ankles. I am also fastened around my waist to the back of the chair by an equally thick brown leather belt.
It is hard to imagine why such bonding is required. Even I can tell by just looking at my skeletal frame that I would pose no such problem to anyone if I chose to escape. Obviously, my captors are aware of an inner strength that I myself have yet to discover.
At least my head is free to pivot around and it is then I see that I'm not alone. There is another person, a woman I think, it's hard to tell with them being dressed in that white one-piece suit.
But now they are facing me and I can see, even through the mask, it's definitely a woman. I can tell by the eyes, and she is walking towards me with a syringe.
Pants wetting fear grips me again as I feebly attempt to struggle out of the leather restrains. My eyes widen, so does hers. She is holding a syringe and shaking. What does she have to be fearful of? I'm the one who is going to be pricked with that thing!
She reaches out and grabs my arm. I look down and for the first time see that my flesh is china white. Unlike the exposed flesh I see of her arm. The tiny bit in between the cuff of her suit and glove. It's a healthy tan colour. It may only be a glimpse but its enough for me to start salivating.
I want to wipe my mouth, hold back the drool. But its too late a large glob free-falls from my mouth and splashes on her wrist. I look up and we both catch each other's gaze. Now, it's her turn to fear. She drops the syringe and runs screaming for the door.
All I can do is stare back to where her arm was, the image of her bare flesh has seemed to have unlocked a flood of memories. Abandoning my car, being surrounding by a horde of people. Then the sharp pain as I feel their teeth tear into my flesh.
'Now, as I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.'
Is the rhyme going through my head. Well, that didn't happen.
Author Note:
I hope you enjoyed reading this and looking forward to hearing from you.
© rebel2version
I have just woken up. No, let me rephrase that. To have woken would have suggested that I was asleep to start with and that I cannot be sure of. In fact, my very existence here at this present moment in time is somewhat of a debate that is raging away in my head.
You see, I cannot remember anything prior to me just suddenly being conscious here. I have no recognition of my name, age or where I was before. The only senses I'm fully aware of is the primeval one that is rushing through me right now. Fear!
I'm restrained in a rough-wooden chair. The seat is high, same as the back. My wrists are bound to the arms with thick brown leather straps. The same goes for my ankles. I am also fastened around my waist to the back of the chair by an equally thick brown leather belt.
It is hard to imagine why such bonding is required. Even I can tell by just looking at my skeletal frame that I would pose no such problem to anyone if I chose to escape. Obviously, my captors are aware of an inner strength that I myself have yet to discover.
At least my head is free to pivot around and it is then I see that I'm not alone. There is another person, a woman I think, it's hard to tell with them being dressed in that white one-piece suit.
But now they are facing me and I can see, even through the mask, it's definitely a woman. I can tell by the eyes, and she is walking towards me with a syringe.
Pants wetting fear grips me again as I feebly attempt to struggle out of the leather restrains. My eyes widen, so does hers. She is holding a syringe and shaking. What does she have to be fearful of? I'm the one who is going to be pricked with that thing!
She reaches out and grabs my arm. I look down and for the first time see that my flesh is china white. Unlike the exposed flesh I see of her arm. The tiny bit in between the cuff of her suit and glove. It's a healthy tan colour. It may only be a glimpse but its enough for me to start salivating.
I want to wipe my mouth, hold back the drool. But its too late a large glob free-falls from my mouth and splashes on her wrist. I look up and we both catch each other's gaze. Now, it's her turn to fear. She drops the syringe and runs screaming for the door.
All I can do is stare back to where her arm was, the image of her bare flesh has seemed to have unlocked a flood of memories. Abandoning my car, being surrounding by a horde of people. Then the sharp pain as I feel their teeth tear into my flesh.
'Now, as I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.'
Is the rhyme going through my head. Well, that didn't happen.
Author Note:
I hope you enjoyed reading this and looking forward to hearing from you.
© rebel2version
