I wake up with a gasp, my eyes momentarily blinded by the bright lights. Oh my God! What am I doing here and how did I get here?
I'm momentarily disorganized, my frantic gaze moving from one corner of the room to the other, trying to make sense of my surroundings. When my eyes land on a guard standing by the door with a gun, the memories come back.
I remember the guard who tried to assault me and how he was killed by the man who paid that huge amount of money to own me. My hands fall on my thigh, and I find that I've been thoroughly cleaned and even dressed in a black t-shirt and black joggers.
Who the hell dressed me up?! Even though I'm grateful that I didn't wake up in the pool of my assaulter's blood, I still can't help but feel incredibly violated.
That's strange and I find myself unable to analyze my feelings at this moment as I remember that I've been put through far worse than that.
