5
Layla’s P. O. V
My body felt weak, my head spun as I tried to hold my eyes open. It’s not been working. I needed to open my eyes at once.
Strangely, I remembered the events of last night.
The bed under me felt soft against my bare skin. I felt the distance of the bed with my hand which I’m suddenly able to move after what felt like forever of being awake on this bed, numb. Nothing. There was nothing next to me. I finally opened my eyes but the whiteness of the bed and the ceiling blinded my eyes so I shut them again.
After a few minutes of trying to regain my strength, I opened my eyes again, this time squinting them to adjust to the room’s brightness before slowly pulling my body into a sitting position. I looked around me and discovered that I was inside a wide room. Everywhere was white. From the doors to the ceiling to the walls. The floor is translucent, a couple of lanterns standing afar, reflecting golden lights in the room. I didn’t see anyone, didn’t hear anything.
I remember being dragged from my house yesterday. Or was it earlier today? I’d been sedated, possibly but was it possible for me to wake up this early?
I remembered the look on my parents face as they gave me off to some man, I remembered how I’d struggled to break free, how they’d bundled me into their car and everything turning black. The thought of my parents giving me off to some men in order to pay off their depths hurt me deeply but the deed was done and there’s nothing I can do about it. Now I was in some porch house, without an idea of where in the world I was.
My eyes falls on my body. I wasn’t wearing my red hoody anymore, I was in a white sundress. I could smell the strong fragrance that came off my body and the room. Everywhere smelled so nice. Where the hell was I?
My phone….
I frantically began searching for my phone under the bed duvet , under the pillow, on the bed’s table stand, but nothing. What was I thinking? He’d be a fool to leave my phone with me after kidnapping me to some God knows place. I’d be sure to contact the police or someone.
I pushed the duvet off my exposed legs and tried to cover my upper body with my arms, feeling too exposed with the dress’s spaghetti strap. I wasn’t wearing bra anymore. My heart raced as I tried to remember ever changing my clothes. But I couldn’t. I was passed out all night last night, it wasn’t possible for me to change my dress. And I smelled like I’d taken some nice shower. I cringed at the thought of that man taking off my clothes and bathing me. God no.
I ran my hands over my body to feel any change. What had he done to me?