Chapter Text
Even with her eyes shut the world spun, it went around and around making the light contort into a strange pattern under her eyelids. It swirled around making Teresa feel nauseous and yet her eyes would not open. Bricks weighed down upon them, pressuring them to remain closed. The warmth of the bed encapsulated her and held her in its comfortable embrace. It was so easy, so,so easy to lull herself back into a restful slumber but her mind told her not.
A dull voice or instinct within the depths of her mind was begging her to wake up, to resist sleep. She wondered if her alarm was ringing but when she paused and simply listened- no noise could be heard. An internal battle began and in the throes of the bitter conflict, the same dull voice was heard. She must be going crazy.
Victory was granted to the dull voice which had enraptured her weary brain and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked over and over as the harsh rays of light ripped through her retina and Teresa feared she had made the wrong decision. Sleep was clearly the better choice but with her body awakening, it was too late to go back on the decision.
A grey wall greeted her as she was wrenched from the tranquil slumber which had once encumbered her. The dull voice returned. Something was wrong. Teresa's brows furrowed, the thoughts in her brain danced around and teased her as they remained out of reach preventing her from learning the information they stored.
Then she realised.
Her walls were not grey, they were an off white colour that had a pretentious name like 'magnolia' scrawled across the tin. True white would make the room look too sterile, according to the salesperson she bought the paint from anyway. Open and shut. Open and shut. She blinked several more times hoping the light was playing tricks on her and the next time she opened them the walls would be the familiar cream colour she'd become accustomed to. Open... and still grey.
Teresa's heart raced and the blood circling her body could be heard swooshing through the vessels in her ear. Fear paralysed her and hesitance plagued her thoughts as to what else the room may behold. Yet curiosity prevaled over her fear, a need for answers spurring her on. Hesitantly, she moved her eyes away from the wall.
She took in her foreign surroundings. They were eerily barren. A window was on the opposite wall, its wooden frame highlighting the towering green trees that sat along the skyline. The sky created an ombre effect, fading from blue to orange to a rosy pink as the sun sunk below the trees, announcing the impending rise of the moon. It was a beautiful sight yet it was overshadowed by the trepidation that pumped through her veins.
There was not much else to see, other than the bed she was laid on there was also a chest of drawers placed under the windowsill. Something caught her eye, it was a black blazer. Her black blazer. She must've been wearing it when... when... it happened. Teresa still did not know how she had woken up here or what had happened. Her mind was a blur ever since leaving the cbi office on the Friday. Without knowing the date, she could not know how long she'd been there.
A few feet away from where the blazer lay, she noticed her shirt screwed up on the floor with her pants and bra not far away. Why were her clothes on the floor? And what was she wearing?
Hesitantly, she pulled down the sheets to reveal what was underneath. She was wearing a t-shirt thats design had peeled off long ago which was several sizes too big for her. At least it covered her. The scent of it was strangely familiar but she couldn't place her finger on why. Each moment that passed led to her anxiety growing, gnawing away at her. She had to get out. She had to leave wherever she was and get home.
The task was not as simple as it sounded.
As her head raised from the safety of the pillows, pain shot through her head and winced audibly as she dropped back down onto her pillow. Eyelids tightly shut to stop the world from spinning and she remained frozen hoping that it would alleviate the pain searing through her skull.
Arm outstretched, Teresa placed her fingers to her throbbing forehead. Most touched her cold skin but she could also feel something else, a texture she could not quite describe. She breathed out through her teeth as another finger touched the mysterious surface.
With care, she ran a finger along the surface, sucking her breath in to deal with pain. It felt raw and the texture of skin intertwined with something else that ran in rows along her forehead. The cogs in her brain spun and the unbidden images of the objects tugged the fibres of her brain. Frustration swam through her veins trying to drown out the incompetence of her own mind. But as hope faded, the word that sat on the tip of her tongue lept up with a spring in its step to the great abyss beyond.
"Stitches," the words parted from her lips and into the broken silence unprompted. It took a few seconds for Teresa to realise the word came from her. The dull voice had faded into oblivion giving her the opportunity to find her own.
She had stitches. That solved one question but left her with many more. The stitches felt neat implying they were done by a professional but that still left too many variables for her to figure out what was going on. She could have been to a hospital or they could have been done in this house by someone with medical training. Each theory she had contained contradictory information which easily dismissed it.
Teresa was the senior agent of the CBI and yet she couldn't solve this. Inadequacy gnawed at her stomach, it was a feeling she knew all too well. That feeling had followed her all throughout her school years, growing alongside her. It was what pushed her to get the top grades and be better than those around her. It was also what led to her developing an ulcer which took close to a year to heal. The feeling arose fleetingly at this period of her life but when it did, it was a reminder that she needed to push herself further to avoid becoming just another fish in the sea.
As she was about to fall onto the tracks which would spiral down into a void filled with the darkness of her mind, a glimmer of flashing silver captured her attention. The swift movement to look at the object caused her vision to blur as vertigo waved over her. The world swirled with colours contorting into a brown mess. She froze. Teresa did not dare to move until everything fell still once again and her eyes were able to focus revealing the true nature of the silver haze.
It was a bell. A small one with a wooden handle. It reminded Teresa of the one her father had when she was young, it would be placed beside him allowing him to call for one of them without having to leave his seat or even speak. She had always hated that bell yet every time it rang, she was the first one to stand up and go to him. It was her responsibility to look after her father, afterall she was the oldest.
Holding it in her hand, she stroked her thumb over the smooth wood. There was not a single crack or chip upon its surface. The bell itself let her see her face in its reflection, it was contorted but she could make out the row of stitches along her forehead. A jumble of feelings floated around in her mind but she did not let herself acknowledge them, her father was not a person she wanted to spend any time thinking about.
Thud! The bell fell to the floor, her hand having become limp from the fatigue plaguing her body, as it bounced against the carpet several small rings rang out, echoing through her ears.
Then she heard footsteps. They started quiet, muffled by the distance between them, but with each creek of a step the noise grew louder. And louder. And louder. She looked at the wall that had the door and imagined them walking up with haste getting closer with each passing second. Her racing heart tried to block any background noise until it was all she could hear but the footsteps could still be heard. This was it. In a few seconds, the door would open and her fate would be sealed. All because of a crass mistake.
Teresa pulled the cover over her face, a small gap made so she could peer at the potential assailant but fear forced her to squeeze her eyes tightly shut. Feigning sleep in order to survive.
3...
2...
1...
The door swung open.