1
Since starting University last year, there were many nights when she would get blackout drunk and wake up in a friend's room. Somehow, she knew even before opening her eyes that this wasn't any of such morning.
A telltale sign was the ache that spread across her temple and intensified to an unbearable fire behind her eyes. Her lips were dry and a pang of pain ran down her throat as she took in deep unsteady breaths.
There was an itch below her nose and a part of her wanted to scratch it, but another part smartly thought that she might be tied up. Some said she was too smart for her good and maybe she was, but in times like this, she appreciated it.
But all these thoughts going through her head didn't stop her from trying to yank at her ropes. Except there weren't ropes, instead they were metal clasps, holding her down and restraining her movement. She tried again to pull her other hand towards her face yet it yielded the same result.
Unbearable pain shot down the side of her skull. Realizing she had kept her eyes shut during her struggle, she quickly opened them to meet painful darkness. Her nose didn't stop itching and the urge to scratch it intensified even though she was hopeless. She released short gasps while she struggled against the metal clasp despite her better judgment.
Logic told her to stay still and think with her head, but the pain shooting to her arms and head coupled with the nonstop itch to her nose made her ditch logic. When she finally stopped her hopeless attempts she faintly noticed a small but steady beep beside her, maybe she could call for help.
Her brain processed that she was somewhere near a hospital of some sort. But when she opened her mouth only a faint squeak came out. She closed her mouth quickly, she was too smart for this. Building up saliva to wet her tongue, she let out a small wail,
"Help." It came out barely above an embarrassing whisper.
"Help me!" This time it came out hoarse and sounded nothing like her usual voice, "Please somebody." Anger came next, the feeling almost consuming her whole being, she balled her hands up into fists and pulled her arms. Another clang of metal and sharp pain in her wrist controlled her unrestrained emotions. She tried to use logic instead,
"You're smart June, these people, whoever they might be, won't break you." She motivated herself. Still, tears sipped out when she slumped her weak self back on the bed.
Logical thoughts finally started coming in. She knew she wasn't waking up from an alcohol-infused dream, and if her brain was still working correctly, she hadn't had anything to drink the night before, or whatever night she had been taken. She didn't even know what day she was in.
A pressure built up in her chest and the beeping sound beside her got increasingly loud. She knew she had to continue struggling or whatever was beeping beside her would cause more harm than it already had. She couldn't ignore the way her mind was increasingly getting fuzzy and it got harder to concentrate on one thing.
Fear paralyzed June's throat, "Please." She cried out in a panic-ridden voice. She twisted and turned and tried to push herself off the bed.
"Please help me." It was like the only thing that heard her scream was the beeping machine beside her, It grew even louder. There was an echo of footsteps and June's breath followed it.
She slowed her breathing forcefully and lay down on the bed, the footsteps grew louder as the person came closer. She was torn between wanting to act like she was still asleep and just begging for help out rightly. Not a lot of logical thoughts were going through her head because she let out a surprisingly audible bellow,
"Please, please, let me go." She said. The footsteps stopped and the wheels squeaked. June jolted when a hand came and rested against the top of her head. She jerked to the side and away from the person. The jerk caused pain to run down her neck. The hand began petting her neck the more she tried to get away from the stranger.
"Calm down June," A male voice said, "You need rest." To her surprise she calmed down a bit, there was no need to be surprised that the strange man knew her name.
Whoever they were, they had kidnapped her, so they knew probably everything about her already, Hell that was how they knew who to kidnap anyway, but what if it had been a mistake? Maybe they had kidnapped the wrong person. She was nothing out of the ordinary, June knew she wasn't special.
She grew up in the Southern side of the Philippines, where people discriminated against her for being a mulatto. The whites hated her for being black and the blacks hated her for not being black enough. As if it wasn't bad enough she had to move to New York to study. Every day was a living reminder of who she was, but June was already used to it. Their hate made no difference, after all her mother didn't love her. That was the reason June wanted to go to New York and study.
"Where am I?" June asked.
"You're in recovery." He said, "Thankfully, the operation was successful. That doesn't mean you're in the clear though. I don't know how you were able to withstand the process and survive it, but you have been the first. I guess Dr. Philip was right."
Her lips trembled. Surgery had been performed on her, which meant something had been altered in her body. Fear shook her and for a minute she felt that reasoning wouldn't work this time.
These people were dangerous, that much was obvious, she just had to figure out what they wanted. The man then tucked a piece of stray brown hair behind her ear and went on to adjust something below her nose, she felt it might be a nose mask.
"What did you do to me?" She asked, surprised by the way her voice sounded in her ears. "How do you know my name?" Maybe asking stupid questions would get him talking.
"I wasn't reckless June. Your health card was brought to me and I was asked to do my job. The detail of your person is not new knowledge to me." He told her, "And as for the operation you just went through, I will tell you about it later. We don't plan on hiding anything from you June. I just don't want anything worrying your recovery."
"Please -"
“Your pulse is high and your oxygen is low." He cut her off, "Take deep breaths June." Instead of listening to the man who refused to answer any of her questions, she bit her lip and pulled down on her restraints. Panic flashed in the man's eyes and his hand quickly reached for the wrist closest to him and covered it.
"June, I need you to do this," he said. "If you don't do this, I'll be forced to sedate you. In your case, that may cause respiratory depression and that would ruin all of my hard work." The look in the man's eyes said he would do exactly that if he needed to,
"What did you do to me?" She asked. The intense pain behind her eyes grew, causing her to curl her fist into the sheets. A sniffle escaped her nostrils and she realized she had been crying.
"Breathe for me." The man said.
June knew that her ignorance of the situation would doom her, but the only thing she knew was that she didn't want to die. She had her whole life ahead of her, she needed to apologize to her mother. Right now, she and her mom's disagreement seemed like a distant thought.
If she saw her right now she would reconcile without a second thought. With that thought in mind, she knew she couldn't die now, she closed her mouth and took deep breaths through her nose. She did this two more times before she felt the man put his hand back on the top of her head.
"Good girl." He told her, "Try to breathe through your nose. I'll check on you in an hour. If you don't improve I'm going to have to give you an oxygen mask." His hand moved down to hers, turned it, and examined it.
"You've been fighting against your restraints." He told her, "You shouldn't do that. You've bruised your wrist and dislodged your IV. If you survive and make it to dinner, I want to be able to show you off without any bruise marks."
Confusion lined her beautiful face, "What dinner?" She asked.
“Nothing for you to worry about yet." A short gasp escaped her lips the minute there was a sharp prick at the back of her hand. He pressed it against it and she listened as the man rummaged through a drawer. Metal and plastic packages were rustling against each other. A cold liquid was rubbed over the inside of her palm. He let go of the back of her hand.
"Ow!" This time she yelled as there was another prick on her arm.
"Don't pull this one out." He said a stern look appearing on his face, "I don't want to have to do it again." She didn't even want to be here if there was an "again” So she pled with him,
"Please let me go." She begged, "I promise that if you let me go I won't have to tell anyone about it." The wheels of the man's chair squeaked. He let out a deep breath and it creaked.
"I can't let you go." He said, "You're not safe out there."
“You're going to kill me." Her voice cracked despite how much she wanted to sound strong.
"Kill you?" His chair creaked again. "June, that is the last thing I want. I will do anything to keep you alive. If the surgery goes right, they'll be impressed." June realized that it wasn't just one person that wanted her, but a lot of people. All hope that she might have been a mistake on their part was dashed painfully.
"What did you do to me?"
"Don't worry about it, June." The man walked around the bed. Water flowed from the tap. It stopped. Footsteps came closer, and the pillows were pulled up behind her. It forced her to sit up straighter, then something cold touched her lips causing her to jump.
"You need to drink." He said. Water dribbled down her chin as he lifted the cup. To June, the water felt like heaven against her dry tongue and throat. He pulled the cup away and ran his hand over her hair again.
"Get some rest." He told June. "I gave you some meds to ease the pain. I'll be down to check on you in an hour." June listened to his footsteps as he walked away from her. There was a click when the door was closed. Those painkillers the man gave her must have kicked in. The pain across her temple had gone down to a bearable throb. The fire was still burning behind her eyes.
She turned her head to the side and felt something shift across her eyes. She then tossed her head to the other side and the fabric moved across her face. June was disappointed to realize that there was clothing covering her face yet she was unaware of it up until now.
She tried to shake it off but the pain returned to her head. She tried pulling her wrists against the restraints but it was useless. She had been secured to the bed. She reasoned that pulling her arm would only ruin her IV and the man would have to stick another one in her.
The sick man had drugged her and brought her unconscious body to the hospital to perform some kind of surgery on her, June thought. What kind of hospital would allow this? Wasn't it suspicious that she was restrained to the bed? She held her breath. All she could hear was the beeping from the machine beside her. Where were the nurses? The other patients? To June, it sounded like she was the only one there.
