Her lids creaked painfully open, and as her eyes struggles to focus, she looked around her feeling disorientated and groggy. She tried to sit up but gave up that notion immediately as the room spun under her reminding her of her college days when she and Beth Ann had had too much the night before and she had to get up for class only mere hours after the previous night's revelry. What she wouldn't give to be back there now instead of here in this room. She tried to focus her eyes on an object, any object in the room to help right them, but there was something wrong. They kept going in and out of focus like a TV screen flickering on and off. Yeah, that was it; it was like looking into an old picture tube. The room around her was not only an unfamiliar one, but it was a grainy one too.

Turning her head, she tried to focus her eyes on anything and to lock that image into her brain. She squinted with all her might, crinkling her eyes into slits, drawing a tiny frown between her delicate brows as she managed to force a clearer picture. What her eyes did light on when they stopped there mad whirling was a lamp on a dressing table. On the base of the lamp was a ceramic little Boo Peep complete with one fluffy sheep's head peeking out from behind Bo Peep's frilly petticoats. The eyes of the sheep stared back at her mournfully, as if asking how she could be so mortified by the dichotomy of its quaint little existence in this house of horrors. Slowly she raised her hands tied at the wrist by way of explanation, but when she got them up a few inches she found that they felt like lead weights on her wrists. And much to her horror they flopped back down heavily on her lap as if they didn't belong to her.

A lap that was swathed in a silk ankle length night gown and matching pinafore in sea foam green. Wait a minute these where not he clothes. She almost threw up at the thought that someone had unclothed and then clothed her while she was unconscious. Repulsed that he had seen her naked or worse, quickly she did a mental evaluation of her physical self and almost wept when she realized that she hadn't as yet been violated. Her body seemed intact.

It may be intact but it was severely out of whack. In fact, her whole body felt hot and prickly. Like when your foot falls asleep after you've been sitting at the movies and you get up to go and you suddenly find you have this painful aching tingle that you have to stomp and rub until everything goes back to normal. If she could stomp her entire body right now she would. Instead she tried to rock back and forth. She began to turn slowly from side to side like she did when she was a child in bed before she went to sleep, but this time she was trying desperately to wake up. Her sister and she thought it great fun to close their eyes until they could see the reflection of their eyeballs through their eyelids. All she managed to do was swing her head back and forth, the rest of her wouldn't obey. She saw her eyeballs, but instead of making her laugh like it had done then, it just made her feel sick. Strangely, her mind seemed to be wandering back to happier times. Perhaps that's what people do in these situations? Think about the better times. It must be the mind's way of lulling you into a false sense of security in order to deal with the hideous atrocities it secretly knows are coming. She turned her head once again to stare at the lamp. Her eyes traveling up the polished silver post up to the pink pleated shade, it seemed so innocuous this little piece of fancy. Her mind, still grasping at straws, told her that anyone who owned such a charming object couldn't possible hurt you.

Her heart jumped when she heard the unmistakable click of a key turning in a dead bolt lock. She tried unsuccessfully to make her body turn over to face the sound, but she found that her numb limbs would not obey. Instead, she began to tremble in fear as she heard the light footfalls of someone crossing the carpet towards her. Her stomach turned to liquid as she tried to decide if she should keep her eyes open so that she would be aware if there was an attack or to close them and pretend she was still unconscious. If he thought she was still out maybe he would leave her alone and she would have more time to think of how she could escape. Oh, why had her mind deserted her earlier, wasting her time walking her down memory lane? She should have been spending every lucid moment planning some kind of defense ─ any kind of defense. She could feel her psyche shriveling up inside her body at the thought of her absolute vulnerably.

Now, she could not only hear him coming around the foot of the bed, she could feel him too. Quickly she decided to feign unconsciousness. She willed her body to stop its incessant trembling and to her relief for the first time since she had woken up from this horrible ordeal it actually listened.

She felt the sagging of the side of the bed as it took his weight. She tried not to hold her breath as her mind started sending her every image of horror that could follow the sharing of this bed with her abductor. It took everything she had not to throw her eyes open and try to fight him. She felt the feather light touch of the back of his hand on her forehead. It was surprisingly cool and soft against her brow. Shouldn't it be clammy and grasping at her? Not comforting. Comforting? Now she had really lost it. It made her flesh crawl to have his hands on her. Add to that the fact that no other man had touched her besides her husband in such a long time that her body was involuntarily trying to make itself move away from his hands. She fought this instinctual act, but her will was not so infallible and she was unable to stop the small moan of disgust that escaped from her lips.

He leaned in close enough that she could smell his aftershave, and feel the heat from his chest. It hovered inches above her, so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. She fought another series of revulsion as he cupped her face and shhhed her like one would comfort a small child after a bad dream. He whispered softly to her little nonsensical terms of endearment. She knew that soft timber that rumbled from his chest. And she would never forgive herself for the knowing, for allowing this thing access to her family. She sent a fervent prayer to God that she was the only one that would be hurt for her stupidity, and that her baby was safely away from this monster. 

Please God I can take anything just please say that my precious son is alive sleeping in his crib at home. The thought of his round face and little fists, that grabbed at her fingers, stilled by this crazed mans hands, had her throat tightening and a tear squeezing from the corner of her closed lid. One solitary bitter hot tear rolled down her cheek and onto the madman's hand, just as she felt a jab of a needle prick in her upper thigh. She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from crying out as the world around her became soft, suffocating her in cotton while his voice became a drone in her ears. The last thing she heard before she was swallowed by the darkness was him whispering softly that everything was going to be all right. 

But she knew better than that. 

She knew nothing was going to be all right, not ever again.  

Please my wonderful readers, if you liked this chapter Vote, Comment, add this book to your reading list, or suggest it to a friend. Don't forget to follow me for more updates. If you could share this story with your followers it would be greatly appreciate and if you have any advice or critiques, don't be shy. I'm open to all feedback. Silent readers are for 18th century country gardens not for Wattpad. LOL  

Love always,

Deborah and Dianne