Noir

My eyes, finally having dropped from the unbeleivable sight before me, were now pinned on the ground, and I watched as the smooth cut of the grass eventually turned into the smooth surface of a walkway with each step Noir took. Fighting gravity, I once again shifted my head to the side so I could see around him, but with each jarring step he took, my head bobbed, sending a pain through my neck, but I stubbornly refused to give in to its warning. The blood that had surged into my head sent out a warning of impending doom if not righted soon, as did my vision as it became blurry. Shortly, joining the two complainers, my stomach started shouting at me as well, unhappy about the overly long pressure being applied against it from Noir's shoulder. Uttering a groan, I began attempting to crawl backwards off Noir's shoulder as he entered the house. But when he refused to release me, and knowing that the heaving of my stomach meant it had sent out its final warning, I began kicking urgently against his stomach. At the same time, I pushed and shoved at his shoulders with my hands, shouting, "Put me down. I'm gonna be sick."

Noir, knocked off balance by my actions, stumbled, and in the next second, a scream ripped from my lips as, my body leaving his shoulder, and my arms and legs pumping through the air like an Olympic swimmer's appendages pumped through the water during the Olympics, I watched with horror as I began to descend like an airplane does during its descent toward the runway. But instead of a controlled landing, I was going to crash and burn.

As I careened toward the floor, I closed my eyes and prepared for impact. The landing was far worse than I could have ever imagined as I hit the carpet with such force it knocked the air from my lungs. Afterward, I skidded along the surface of the carpet's pile until I impacted the bottom of a couch, where I came to a shuddering stop against its girth. Stunned, I lay still, pain rippling through my body in waves that shot through every portion of my body, before my vision graying around the edges, I passed out.

~~

Consciousness returned to a torrential deluge of water flowing across my body as it drenched me beneath its cold blast. Chill bumps rose across my flesh like a horrendous case of pimples. and my body shook like the leaves beneath the full bite of a bitter winter wind. I jackknifed into a sitting position, my mouth hanging open in shock as I uttered a wail of outrage at the realization I was in the bottom a bathtub, and that the shower-head was spewing cold water down on me full blast! The stream of water bombarded the exposed flesh of my face and arms as I leaned forward, and gripping the hot water knob, I tried to twist it into the off position, quickly realizing that it was off! Throwing a leg over the side of the tub, I tumbled out onto the floor. Then, reaching for the other knob I shut off the flow of water, growling low within my throat at the realization that the water had never been warm to begin with! Shivering as I ran a towel over my wet hair and drenched clothing, I made my way out of the bathroom and toward my bedroom. The battered and bruised feeling of my body from my little sojourn across the floor, accompanied me every step of the way.

Once in my room, I tossed aside the wet towel and wrapped myself within the blanket from the bed. Yet it did little to ease the chill bumps that had sprung up on my body, and did absolutely nothing to calm the chattering of my teeth. I was a quivering, quaking wreck, having been through a gauntlet of emotions and life changing events that had left me uncertain of whether I was coming or going.

Swathed in the blanket from head to toe, I continued shaking so hard I feared that if many more rattles of my teeth occurred, they'd crack. I needed to get warm and change my clothes as the heavy, wet denim of my jeans was rubbing my ass raw. As long as I had been in this prison, I had never been given a change of clothes. I'd found though, that if I set my clothing by the door at night, the next morning they would have been laundered, folded and set back where I had left them the night before. However, I didn't have time for that. With a disgusted grunt as Noir was the last person I wanted to see at the moment, I nonetheless climbed to my feet and headed back toward the door of my room. If anyone was to get me some dry clothes, it would have to be Noir. Jerking the door open, I began making my way down the hallway, shouting Noir's name. With each step I took, I tugged at the wet denim across my ass, certain by the way my ass-cheeks felt they were as red and as rawas a Baboons looked to be.

As I continued down the hall, I muttered to myself, my anger with Noir growing stronger by the second. When I finally reached the door at the end of the hall that would take me into the gathering room, I exploded. The moterfucker was locked. I could hear the sound of voices and knew there were people on the other side, however, no matter how much I pounded on the door or shouted, no one came to see what all the racket was about. With tears sliding down my cheeks in hurt, anger and disillusionment, I found no reason to linger, and as I could go no further in my quest for dry clothes, I turned and begun making my way back to my room. Early on I had entertained the thought I had fallen down Alice's rabbit hole, but I now knew, instead, I'd landed myself in Satan's den.