Gone

When the girl finally woke it was well past morning. In fact it was two days past the evening she had previously closed her eyes to. She blinked back the bright light that was no more than an irritating blur. She was not yet aware that the bed she was lying in was not her own. She spread out her arms across the covers. They felt silky beneath her palm, far silkier than those upon her bed. Carefully she turned to the side only to find an unfamiliar night stand covered in unfamiliar trinkets. She would have been more alarmed if she were not so confused. Past the night stand was a floor length window that stood open. The window was magnificent. She followed the line of the room as far as she could manage without sitting up. The room was magnificent. She pushed down the bedspread as she tried to sit up, I say tried because she quickly found that she could not accomplish this simple feat. She was struck by overwhelming and incapacitating pain from the back of her left calve. Carefully she pulled away the covers to find her leg well bandaged from knee to ankle. She was terribly confused. She couldn't remember being hurt, nor how she came to reside in such a splendid setting. She sat up slowly trying not to jostle her injured extremity. The rest of the room was just as incredible as the window as she scanned her domain. On the table across the room from her bed was a basket filled with toiletries. That was lovely, but how was she expected to get from the bed to the table?

It was a treacherous journey for certain, but she made it. She sat on the edge of the bath tub in the glorious immaculate bathroom running a warm bath. She had gently removed the layers of gauze and ace bandages to find a well stitched wound nearly the circumference of her lower leg. She was sure that the injury was far more debilitating than it looked. When she slid into the bath she was careful not to submerge her injury, already able to imagine the pain such an act would cause. The water was glorious, the mood warm. Everything was perfect, and yet she still had no idea where she was, how she had come to be there, or why she was there at all. But she had a warm bath, a nice room, and lovely calm now, and that was all she really needed.

She again lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. She had looked out the window only to find that it opened on to a balcony several stories above the street. She had searched the suite, because it was indeed a hotel suite, only to find all the doors locked. She found all the phones dead, all the outer doors locked, all access sealed. It was ridiculous, what if there was a fire? She found herself watching the television, then listening to music, then reading magazines, and realizing how much time she had lost in this 'splendid' room. She gingerly pulled her leg close to her on the bed so she might better see her injury. The edges of her wound were ragged, not like a cut from a blade, but rather a scratch or bite. The savage wound was deep, and painful. She had searched the room for any sign of her keeper, but there was no one in the suite, and it appeared that there never was another. She was getting scared, and hungry. She searched the suite again, but to no avail. She came back to the bed and there a tray of food rested upon its neatly made covers. She hadn't heard anyone come in, she hadn't even heard the door open, but why look a gift horse in the mouth? She ate the food happily, grateful she had not been completely forgotten. The dinner was roast chicken and vegetables, with a warm roll.

Later on in the evening the young lady sat watching yet another pointless program on the television when a breaking news bulletin flashed across the screen. Girl missing, presumed dead, followed by her own picture. “Girl was walking dog late last night... Parents devastated... blood found on the scene of abduction... little hope.” She was watching the investigation of her own disappearance. She saw as her parents begged for her safe return, and the police chief gave his oath that she would be found alive, and on and on the story went. She found herself on the floor clutching the television before the program had ended. She was famous, and all because everyone thought she was dead.