Chapter Four: Bright Awakenings

Gradually my eyes flutter open to the morning sun blazing through the windows. It burns at first. Not ready to get up, I close them back again and roll onto my side while pulling my pillow against my chest. I always hold my pillow in the mornings. It is the one comfort I look forward to and cherish as a part of my daily ritual.

When I squeeze my pillow, I realize something is… off. My pillow isn’t lumpy. The fabric brushes smoothly along the side of my face. Come to think of it; even the sheets feel... different. I feel like I am laying upon pure Charmeuse silk, each part of the fabric gliding across my skin.

My full-sized bed is the same place I have laid upon since I was a child. The mattress is the same, so I know this could only be nothing more than a wonderful dream. Too bad, though, I could get used to waking up like this. I could only imagine having the wealth to afford such luxuries. 

“But why does it seem so real?”

A cold draft tickles my toes and across my left leg. Wrapping the soft silk sheets above my bare skin, I gasp, realizing the truth. “Oh, my God!” My eyes fling wide open in shock.

 "I am not dreaming! This is freaking real!" I yell in shock. 

"What the hell! This is not my room!" I scream.

Jumping off the bed, I land with both of my feet simultaneously on the hardwood floors. Scanning both ways for intruders, I look both ways, to the left and the right. My shoulders slump in relief when I realize I am alone in the bedroom.

Marching over to the door, I check it, but it’s locked. “Fuck! I am trapped in here! I need to find a way out!”

I look around to figure out a plan. “Hmm, maybe the window!”

Realizing someone may have heard me by now, I quickly make my way towards the window. The sun is blazing through the velvet-red drapes, so bright I can barely see. I move the drapes aside and discover I am three stories, at least from the ground, and there is nothing to climb on to help me down. “Now what? Well, I better at least have a weapon to protect myself with. Let’s see what I can find...”

 Scanning the room, I notice the room's decor is entirely red; Red walls, red furniture, and even an antique red cushioned couch facing towards me. Throughout the room, I look high and low and come up empty-handed.

"Well, there is no escape route and no weapons,” I fuss.

"Maybe if I can remember how in the hell I ended up, I can like con my way out of this." 

I close my eyes and rub my temples. A sharp pain surges through the center of my head. A migraine settles in, making the bright sun unwelcoming and too unbearable to handle. "This is too much. Last night must have been a freaking doozy.”

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. "Holy shit! I remember a guy at the restaurant! The images are still not one hundred percent clear, but his face was unforgettably breathtaking. He was so… so… beautiful.” 

“What was his name?”  

The more I think about the strange man, the unsettling feeling travels through the pit of my stomach. "Wait a minute. Did I even get his name?" 

I pace back and forth once more upon the floors. The more I can not remember, the more frustrated I become. Pulling my hair wildly with my hands, more frantic thoughts come to mind. I stop pacing and realize something more horrific. "Could this be his room?" 

“Holy fuck! Did I have sex with him? Oh, no-no-no... Please, tell me I didn’t have stranger sex!” 

“Think, Katrina! Think!”

 More images flash through my brain like a lightning storm on a heated summer night. I whisper, barely audible to my own ears, "Wait, there was an accident. It was my car… and-and… then there was another car… "

“I know there was more!” I grip my hair madly.

“I remember! Someone tried to get me to leave with them, but I didn’t go with them because the man from the restaurant appeared out of nowhere!” 

“Holy shit! It’s him! The man from the restaurant! This is his place!” 

“Did he drug me? I don’t remember. I wish I could remember more. I am so tired suddenly.” 

I sit back down upon the oversized king bed, feeling every part of the mattress relaxing my stressed muscles. Something catches the corner of my eye. “What is that?”

I look back on the pilasters. Slowly, I guide my fingers around the breathtaking, handcrafted details of the bed. I notice the headboard appears made of birch with a chestnut finish and the marble pilasters. There are thick vines and thorns carved into the woodwork, twisting and turning, pointing towards the letters.

K. L. J. 

"How strange. K. L. J." I say, quite confused. "They are the same initials as mine. Odd... very odd." 

Guiding my fingers along the black quarter-inch thick initials. My panic and fear washed away by curiosity. "What are the odds of someone having the same initials as mine? Well. It is possible. A little strange, I guess, but possible.”

“I mean, what else could stand for K.L.J.? Katalina Leann Jackson? No, that would be impossible. That would be my great grandmother's initials, and she died back in the early 1900s in a fire.”

"This room, the furniture, everything is so strange... beautiful, but really strange. It is beyond anything I have ever seen, beyond the television, of course."

"Where the hell am I?"

The blinds behind the drapes begin to lower. The room becomes darker and darker, making the room barely visible to see. A slight breeze brushes upon my back. "You're in your new living quarters." A familiar voice says. 

A warm breath travels down the nape of my neck while a single, long finger travels down my arm, sending shivers through my entire body. I now realize why everything in bed felt so drafted. I look down towards my body; I realize that I am naked.