I’m taking part in the StoryADay September 2015 challenge. The main reason being to explore my characters from the Morgan and Fairchild Series. I will endeavour to incorporate the daily prompts, though, as it’s a continued tale, it’s not strictly a story a day. It’s more a story within a story. I’ve given myself a word limit of 600 words.
Prompt: Sept 4th – A person wakes up, not quite remembering what happened the night before, and is surprised and upset by what they see outside the window.
Recap: Justin Chambers, part of the team at Morgan & Fairchild, is approached by a friend who needs a favour. Justin accepts the missing person case, and agrees to look into it in his own time.
Holly woke slowly, almost reluctantly. She’d been dreaming. A wonderful dream; a place she felt safe, and loved, and whole again. But it didn’t last. Soon the face of her brother began to fade. His laughter nothing more than an echo in her mind.
Her stomach clenched; with hunger, she knew, but also with regret – with longing.
Holly waited for the familiar sense of reality; the hard floor beneath her, the balled up coat she used as a pillow on warmer nights. Instead she felt a soft, curved padding, which fit around her like a hug.
Her eyes flew open, confusion swamping her thoughts when it registered she was laying on a bed. A large bed with soft sheets and a downy quilt. She scanned the small room, her brows scrunched as she tried to recall how she had acquired such luxury. She came up blank.
The décor was basic, not unappealing considering where she’d spent her previous nights, but basic nonetheless. Aside from the bed, there was a single wardrobe and a small chest of drawers which held a lamp. The carpet was a deep brown, the walls a creamy texture; newly painted she acknowledged. There was the subtle fragrance of fresh plaster and polished wood.
She closed her eyes, listening for sounds which would give her a clue as to where she was. The silence made her head hurt, or perhaps that was the effort of trying to remember.
Holly pushed back the covers, her pulse jumping in alarm when she saw the unfamiliar clothes. She was dressed in a pair of black cotton pants and grey vest top. Her skin shone as though she had scrubbed herself clean, though she had no recollection of it. Surely if she had showered, she would remember?
Her hands went automatically to her hair. Holly sucked in a breath, wishing she had a mirror. Her once tangled, matted locks had been brushed out; now smooth and straight.
“What the hell is going on?” she said, feeling sick to her stomach.
Her gaze moved to the small window, covered by creamy white blinds. She walked across with a sense of dread. Her instincts were screaming at her – she really didn’t want to know what lay beyond the window. Yet her fingers reached for the string anyway.
The breath she’d been holding came out in a rush as soon as she drew the blind. Not three feet from the window was an identical pane of glass. It wasn’t what frightened her. No, it was the fact the window was set in a square, metal container.
Holly looked to her left, and then to the right, and her stomach clenched in painful understanding. She was in a box too.
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