Angel yelled in her sleep and startled herself awake. She reached for the rumpled sheet and blanket, kicked down to her feet, as she shivered so hard her teeth chattered. The sheet underneath her was soaked, adding to the chill. Her racing heart thumped in her temples, each beat like someone banging a kettledrum in her ears. She finally managed to grab the blanket and pull it over her, pulling her legs up to her chin. After a minute or so, her shivering subsided enough to yell out.
“Hello! Anyone there? I need water.”
Dark in her room. Was it the same day or the next? When was it that Godzilla had held her down and that chick gave her a shot? It had knocked her out, but for how long? What had they given her?
“Hey, I need a drink.” She paused. Then louder. “And I need to pee!”
Angel heard low voices from outside her room. She listened intently.
“I’m coming in. Please stay in your bed,” said a female voice.
Angel said nothing. Someone unlocked the door, which opened slowly. A wedge of light widened across the room until the door was halfway open. Angel sat up and brought her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. The overhead lights switched on. Angel squinted and put one arm over her eyes.
“My name is Sara. How are you feeling?”
Angel slowly removed her arm from her eyes, opened them and saw a tall, blonde chick, not the one who had given her a shot. She held a plastic cup with water in one hand and what Angel thought was an opaque white, plastic pitcher in the other. Sara put the pitcher in the corner then handed Angel the cup of water, which she took and gulped down.
“Why am I here?” Angel demanded.
“We’re here to help you,” the blond chick replied. She smiled. White, straight teeth. She was wearing a pair of tan cargo shorts, a light yellow pullover top, and Adidas brand tennis shoes with dark anklet socks.
“This some kind of porn thing or something? Getting me off the juice to put me in your sick film?”
The woman named Sara shook her head. “Do you need more water?”
“Sure.”
Sara backed out and closed the door. Unfortunately, Angel heard the lock turn. In less than a minute, the lock turned again, the door opened, and the blond woman returned with another cup of water. Angel finally figured out that the pitcher wasn’t a pitcher. Oh joy, she had to pee in a plastic bottle.
She stretched, rotated, and slipped her legs off the bed until her feet touched the floor. She didn’t reach for the cup of water. Sara approached a little closer and extended the cup. Angel started shivering again, wrapping her arms around herself. Sara moved a little closer, paused, then she moved even closer.
Angel stopped shivering and took the cup of water from Sara. For a few seconds, she just looked at the cup. She sprang off the bed and flung the water at Sara, hitting her in the face. Angel tried to shove Sara aside, but Sara managed to grab her arm. With her free hand, Angel scratched Sara’s face. The tall blonde shrieked and let go of Angel, who bolted out the door and ran into a brick wall. At least that’s what it felt like.
Large, beefy arms encircled her. She felt herself lifted from the floor and carried back into the room.
“You okay, Sara?”
Angel could not see anything with her face crushed against the large man’s chest, but she heard Sara’s reply.
“I’ll be fine. Put her on the bed. I think we can skip any more medication.”
She felt herself deposited on the bed. Above her hovered the same giant of a black man that had held her down before so a different chick could give her a shot. She considered trying to run again, but his glare and scowl convinced her otherwise. Instead, she yelled, “I want to leave!”
The two others left the room without saying a word. They closed the door and locked it. At least they left the light on. Must be daytime, then, she reasoned. The doggie door opened and one of them slid in a tray with some kind of sandwich, another apple, and some more water. Angel rolled onto her side, then got up and retrieved the tray.
“I’m not making some dirty movie for you morons. Just let me go.” Silence.
She placed the tray on the nightstand, grabbed the sandwich, and bit into it. Tuna. Actually pretty good. Some sweet relish mixed in. She was famished. In no time, she devoured the sandwich and the apple.
“What about dessert? Do I get a cookie or something?” No reply. And no cookie.
Another bout of shivering hit her, so she curled back up into a ball and waited for it to subside. She’d heard about these guys who make the worst of the porn flicks. They grab girls off the street, clean them up so they’re presentable, then promise more drugs if they do the movie. Well, she wasn’t doing no freaking movie. And that’s when the craving hit.
Half an hour later, her resolve wasn’t so strong.
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