Kidnapped

My eyelids fluttered open as the sunlight from the uncurtained window finally forced me from sleep. I tried to keep them open, but they were heavy blinking back against the light. A few minutes more wouldn’t hurt.

I rolled over onto my side and became painfully aware that I was not in my warm, soft bed. The surface beneath me was cold and had no give. Above me was only air and the clothes I still wore. I became aware that my head was heavy; it felt like it was full of water when I moved, and it was starting to hurt.

I sat up using the discomfort of my unintended bed as motivation. Pushing past tight, sore muscles I found my way to my feet, which were still in my running shoes. My head was still heavy, but it was getting clearer by the minute as my heart rate increased. I wasn’t just passed out on my bathroom floor from a long night of partying. I had no clue where I was.

The room was small, lit only by the sunlight coming in the window, which I now realized had only broken glass panes. Aside from myself there was nothing else in there. I peered out the window to see large, moss covered trees beyond. I tried the door and it was unlocked.

Birds sung morning songs and bees buzzed around flowers nearby. The room that had been my sleeping chamber was nothing but a small empty shack that had seen better years. The forest that surrounded me looked ancient and untamed.

How I had gotten there I could not tell you. Where there was I also could not say. You are the first person I’ve seen since I arrived, and that was so long ago I scarcely remember who I was before I got here. So how about it? Do you remember how you ended up in that small dilapidated shack? Do you know who brought us here?

This short story was written in 30-minutes as a response to the prompt: “The point of view character wakes up somewhere unfamiliar”. It is presented here with minimal editing.