Page 85 of Detroit

The pain.

And… nothing.

Panic seemed to start atmospherically at first, a charge in the air around me that started to choke out the oxygen, making a suffocating sensation flood me. My heartbeat started to beat a wild, erratic drum in my chest, so strong and overwhelming that I couldn’t think of anything else but the sensation for a long second.

Until I tried to lift my arms, so I could press my hand to my chest. And found my wrists bound together.

My skin prickled, a cold sensation like icy fingertips trailing over me, leaving a clammy bath in its wake.

My wrists were bound.

Almost at once, I realized that there was something over my mouth as well.

I was bound and gagged.

Bound and gagged.

Like in a freaking action movie.

You know the one. Where the girl finds her strength in the chaos, breaks out of her binds, and goes on a revenge mission to destroy her attackers.

The problem was, I wasn’t that girl.

I’d neverbethat girl.

My thoughts unraveled then, leaving nothing but frayed edges of rationality. I was assaulted by a million distinct catastrophic possibilities, each more irrational than the last, my mind hijacked by chaos.

Time warped as I struggled to gain control of my own thoughts, to force them to stop swirling, to allow me to catch on to one, singular, logical thought.

I struggled for breath as a vice tightened around my chest.

I sucked in air again through my nose, pulling it in until my chest burned, then slowly releasing it. Once, twice, three times.

Time warped. Seconds stretched into eternities.

But I kept breathing.

And, eventually, little by little, the panic started to recede.

My pulse slowed. My mind stopped spinning.

I felt utterly drained from fighting with my own mind.

But there was no time for exhaustion.

I had to think now that it was possible again.

I’d been hit.

I’d been… taken.

I’d been gagged and bound.

I was sure that Detroit would look for me.

The problem was, I had no idea where Detroit was. How long he would be gone. If anyone else would notice my absence until he returned at some unknown time in the future.

I couldn’t rely on him.