Pain. Fear. Hopelessness.
This is what Jenna felt. The fear was pumping adrenaline through her veins and her breathing was as rapid as her heartbeat. Her hands were bound above her head, and the room she was in was dark and had the musty smell you would associate with a cellar or basement. The floor beneath her knees was rough, like concrete, and cold. Whatever was binding her hands was digging painfully into her wrists, made worse by having to support her body weight. The position strained her shoulders as well, causing an ache there, but the worst of her pain was in her back.
Jenna's shirt was torn open down the back, that much she could tell by the way it fell against her sides and the cold air on her exposed skin. Something on her back stung fiercely, and she could swear she felt a warm liquid making small trails down her flesh. There was a muffled sound of a footstep and swish noise before Jenna felt something strike her back, making her cry out in pain and attempt in vain to arch away from the blow.
"Please, stop," she heard herself beg, but she hadn't consciously thought the words. "I learned my lesson, I promise!" The voice was definitely hers, but there was something off about it— besides the fear and pain, something else was different.
"You're only half done with your punishment," came the voice of a man. Jenna didn't know who he was, but she seemed to recognize that this man is who she feared— this man was who was hurting her.
Punished? thought Jenna, confusion swimming in her head. Why am I being punished? Who is this?
Frustration prickled in her mind as, even though she was trying to will herself to interrogate this offender, her words wouldn't come out. She had no control of her body, not even to speak her own words. Instead of her questions, soft, heartbroken sobs shook her weak and pained body, and she sagged against the restraints. There was no fight left in her, at least that's how it seemed, despite the fury of her subconscious. Jenna wanted to scream, thrash, fight— but she couldn't, and it made a hopeless rage burn in her belly.
Sound seemed to fade, not in a sense of quieting, but more like a distortion. The sobbing coming from her beaten body and the other noises in the room began to become almost muffled, garbled— like Jenna was hearing it from under water. It was disorienting, and she felt confused. Was this really happening, was this real? Was she dying, or losing consciousness?
The man did not stop, was not swayed by her tears. Several times she heard the snap of what she could only assume was a whip before unimaginable pain bit at her already abused skin. Each blow elicited a scream of pain, her body shaking with her cries. Her world darkened around the edges, her line of sight narrowing steadily until she was eclipsed in darkness and silence.
Jenna sat up in her bed with a gasp, her heart racing and her skin damp with a cold sweat. Her body was wracked with pain, and she pressed a trembling hand over her eyes. Another nightmare, she thought bitterly as she took deep breaths. These nightmares were always a precursor to several days of pain, of being barely able to get out of bed.
Despite the pain she already felt, Jenna knew she had to get up and get moving. It was often worse if she allowed herself to wallow in bed. She slipped her feet into her soft, comfortable house shoes after prying herself from bed, and padded to the small kitchen in her apartment. A nice, hot cup of tea usually helped, and she filled her electric kettle before turning it on to heat the water. She opened one of the cabinets, the one that had all her medicine and vitamins— and unfortunately, Jenna had a lot.
Olive eyes scanned the bottles until she found the ibuprofen, popping it open and shaking six of the small, reddish pills into her palm. After filling a glass with some tap water, Jenna downed the pain killers, chasing them with the water. She didn't particularly like tap water, finding it to have a taste that was a cross between chemical and metallic, but it was fine for taking medicine with. The emptied glass was placed in the sink, the young woman leaning against the wall of the kitchen with her eyes closed while she waited to hear the kettle go off.
Her apartment felt so quiet, sometimes too quiet, but Jenna didn't want to deal with a roommate. Strangers always had too many questions about her condition that she just didn't have answers for—plus, there's always the unsolicited and unhelpful advice—, and she didn't want any of her friends worrying more than they already did. She didn't even really like telling them about her "episodes", because they always wanted to help, but didn't know how. Hell, even her doctors over the years didn't know how to help, so they just kept throwing medicine at her.
There was really only one friend who didn't make her feel pitied, and didn't question her to the nines. He would just be present, giving her what she needed without asking. It felt like he understood her in ways that no one else did, and if he wasn't gay, she'd probably have fallen for him.
Jenna left the kitchen to grab her phone, where it lay on her nightstand still on the charger. She unhooked it and started typing out a text to Devon, cursing in pain and irritation as she caught her shoulder on the door frame of her room. Deciding it would be better to finish her text before attempting to walk, she leaned her aching body against the offending door frame.
[Message To: Best Friend]
Hey Dev, are you free to hang with me today? I could use some company.
She sent the message and slipped her phone into the pocket of her loose sweats, then proceeded to return to the kitchen. The electric kettle had finished heating her water and shut off, so Jenna grabbed her favorite "Current Mood: NOPE" mug from the cabinet, along with a bag of raspberry lemon tea, and poured the steaming water into it. Knowing it would take a few minutes to steep, she also grabbed a granola bar and a couple sticks of string cheese for breakfast— yes, obviously the breakfast of champions.
With breakfast and mug in hand, Jenna went and curled up on her couch. She set her goodies on the coffee table, freeing her hands to be able to fish her phone back out of her pocket and pull her plush throw blanket over her lap. The phone was carelessly dropped on the cushion next to her, and her breakfast snatched up. She was crunching on a mouthful of granola and browsing movies on Hulu when her phone alerted her to a text.
[Message From: Best Friend]
A day with my bestie?! I'll be there faster than you can recite pi!
Jenna shook her head and rolled her eyes. Sometimes Devon was so... extra.
[Message To: Best Friend]
Yeah, let me just google that and get right on it. Cue my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
She hadn't set her phone down for more than five minutes before she heard her front door opening and the boisterous voice of her best friend calling out.
"I'm glad your pain doesn't affect your sense of humor," Devon said as he closed the door behind him, and came into the living room.
"You know me, Dev, just a ray of freakin' sunshine," Jenna quipped back.
The man just chuckled and plopped next to her on the couch. He didn't ask questions, he didn't give her piteous looks, and Jenna was more grateful for that than she could put into words. All Devon did was Pat her on the knee in a gesture of comfort, and then started giving opinions on what movie they should watch. A good ten minutes of bickering ensued, and Jenna ended up switching to Disney+ before they managed to agree on something. In the end, the duo wound up watching Tangled, and Jenna ended up falling asleep with her head on Devon's incredibly warm shoulder.
Warmth and comfort were the first things to register for Jenna as her consciousness returned. In her groggy state, she couldn't think of why, but she buried her face into her heated pillow. She took a deep breath, a masculine, earthy scent registering as she became more aware. Then Jenna began remembering falling asleep while watching a movie with Devon. However, she could have sworn when she passed out, they were sitting. Now she was sprawled out on top of him, their legs tangled and twisted with each other and her fluffy blanket.
"Great," she muttered, trying to sit up without disturbing him. That proved fruitless, because as soon as Jenna began moving around, he began to show signs of waking up also.
"Ew, a girl," was Devon's half asleep groan as he reached up and rubbed at his sleepy eyes, which prompted Jenna to roll hers.
"Ew, a Devon," she retorted, kicking her legs free of both the blanket and her best friend's.
Since he was awake anyway, Jenna didn't care anymore about jostling him or making noise, and grunted as she finally managed to disengage and stand. She wobbled for a moment, her body still aching, and standing too fast made her vision swim temporarily. Her hand shot up to cover her eyes as her equilibrium evened back out, and Jenna heaved a sigh. She concluded that Devon must have finished off her "breakfast", because all that remained on the coffee table was a partially drank mug of now-cold tea, two cheese wrappers, and the empty granola bar packaging.
Jenna mused that she should probably eat a more substantial meal, but she just had no energy to put anything better together. She picked up her mug and took it to the kitchen to rinse it, hearing Devon yawn and stand from the couch to stretch-- if the creaking of the couch and popping sound of bones was anything to go by. The mug was set in the sink upside down to dry, deciding she'd wash it properly later. A deep breath, and then Jenna retrieved a bottle of ibuprofen and a bottle of water, washing down four pills. Even that wouldn't be enough to get rid of her pain, but it would dull it for a while and allow her to get some things done.
"I am starved, what about you?" Devon asked as he joined her in the kitchen. She shrugged, even though she was hungry, and the medicine had less of a chance of making her feel ill if she put some food on her stomach. She was about to answer when the previously mentioned organ decided to beat her to the punch, rumbling loudly.
"Yeah, me too," she assented, turning away from the counter to face him. "What did you have in mind? I'm sure I have something edible laying around--" Her friend's laughter cut her off, and Jenna plopped her hands on her hips in mild annoyance.
"Oh, don't pout, Jen-Jen," he grinned, reaching forward to poke at her cheek. "No offense, babe, but I wouldn't trust you to boil water, let alone cook me anything. Let's go get McD's."
Jenna wanted to argue; she wasn't a chef by any means, but she could boil water! She could even cook some simpler meals, especially if it came in a box. With directions. However, McDonald's did sound better than anything she could throw together right now, so with a sigh of resignation, Jenna nodded her agreement.
"Fine, but you're paying," she grumbled and crossed her arms. "Prepare thy wallet, because I want chicken nuggies, fries, and an Oreo McFlurry."
Devon's loud laugh warmed her from the inside out, causing her to smile against her will.
"Deal."