I looked at the door. “Hello?” I whispered. “Help me, please,” I blurted. Whoever was outside the door tapped the knob. “Please,” I begged. “Help me.”
“I can’t,” a heavily accented female voice whispered back. “I sorry,” she went on. “You try to help me and you get taken. So sorry.” Emotion weighed on her tone. She sniffled as if she was crying.
“Just let me out,” I pleaded. “Please!” My voice broke and I started crying. “I just want to go home. Please!”
She got up, shuffling her feet. I flew back to the door only to see a trail of black hair as she turned and ran. I heard her run up a set of stairs and a door slam shut. Then everything was quiet again. I sank back down to the floor and put my head in my hands, biting my lip to curb my tears.
My body was numb, yet it screamed in pain. I clamped a hand over my left bicep where the needle had driven into my skin and rubbed at the dull ache. My head throbbed, and the rest of me was sore all over, no doubt from being jostled around in a car trunk for God knows how long.
I scrambled to my feet and wrapped my hands around the rusty doorknob. I rattled it and shoved against the door. When it didn’t so much as budge, I stood back and kicked at it until my foot grew sore.#p#分页标题#e#
Panting, I drew back and stretched my hands out, half afraid of what I might find. The room I was in was no bigger than a closet. All four walls were cement. The ceiling was too high for me to reach. Not knowing what else to do, I sat in the middle of the room, hugging my knees to my chest, and waited.
And waited.
And waited some more. The pale light that filtered in from under the door was turning gold. I had to go to the bathroom, bad. I moved to the keyhole and watched, hoping somebody, anybody, would come back down the stairs. My stomach grumbled, though I was so sick with fear I doubted I could eat if a feast was laid out in front of me. I sat with my back against the door and nervously fiddled with my necklace. I closed my fingers around the silver heart and gently pulled on it. Arianna wore one identical to mine, except her center stone was a different color. Mine sported a diamond, while hers had a less fancy pearl. They were our birthstones, and the necklaces had been given to us by our parents on our thirteenth birthdays. Arianna had just gotten hers last year.
I watched the light disappear from the outline of the door as the sun set. I was trapped. I felt like I was suffocating, like the walls of the tiny room were closing in on me. Silence rang in my ears. Being choked made my throat burn on each exhale, and swallowing was like daggers dragging down my esophagus. I desperately wanted a glass of water, but just thinking of water reminded me of how badly I needed to urinate. I squeezed my legs shut and pulled on the door knob again, trying to break it loose until my bladder protested in pain, forcing me to get up and move to the farthest corner of the small room, pull down my pants and squat on the floor.
Feeling ashamed and humiliated, I went back to the door, focusing on removing the doorknob. I wrapped both hands around it and pulled again for good measure. Something cracked, sparking a tiny flame of hope. I pulled again, and the base of the knob loosened.
I yanked it back and jammed my fingers into the splintery hole and twisted a screw. Half of the knob clattered to the ground outside the door. I froze, holding my breath. But no one came. I pulled the other end toward me, feeling a sense of satisfaction when the rust covered oval fell into my hands. I quickly fiddled with the only screw I had managed to salvage and stuck it in my back pocket.
I ran my fingers around the knob, envisioning it in my hand, since I couldn’t actually see it in the dark. I held it tightly, imagining using it to hit Zane or Jackson in the face if I ever saw them again. I held on to that vision of attacking my attackers, replaying it in my mind, over and over. The fear of not knowing what was going to happen to me ate away at my stomach. Bile burned in my throat but I had nothing to come up.
Why did they take me? What did they want? If they were going to kill me, why hadn’t they done so already? The fact that I was still alive brought on more terror. What were they going to do to me? I thought about the girl in the alley. What happened to her? Was she the person they were going back for?
I twisted the knob over and over in my hands and rested my head against the door. I closed my eyes and then opened them, feeling too vulnerable. I shook my head at the thought. It was too dark to see anything anyway. Even though I had explored the tiny closet, I couldn’t let go of the fear that someone was in there with me. Images of villains from horror movies flashed through my mind, but they all fell short when I remembered Zane’s pretty blue eyes. They were so captivating, so beautiful, but held back animalistic rage.