EMERY
Pain throbs through my skull like a relentless drumbeat, each thud echoing the disarray of my thoughts. I'm slowly pulled from the depths of unconsciousness, my mind a fog of confusion. The world around me is a blur, a disorienting haze that refuses to let go.
As my senses begin to regain their footing, I become aware of the softness beneath me—the familiar embrace of my own bed. My heart skips a beat, a flicker of hope igniting within me. But as the fog clears, the reality comes crashing down like a weight, crushing my fragile optimism.
I'm not free.
My eyes flutter open, squinting against the muted light filtering through the curtains. It's my room, which should be a haven, a sanctuary from the world's chaos. But now, it's actually a prison of a different kind—a reminder of the captivity I can't seem to escape.
