CHAPTER 3

LOST

                  The only word booming in her brain. Her feet reluctant to grasp reality. Dress fists into her palm. Deep, dreadful howl of wind swirls around her. A brush of crude blanket, literally, dry straws at her knees, swaying to the sides. Sarah is stranded in the middle of a field.

                Nothing else but malty brown spread across the horizon. No trees, no houses or huts, no animals, no birds, not even a tiny little insect. Just a vacant grass field with the blaring sun to accompany her.

'How did I get here and how do I escape?' Her brain beaming with questions when suddenly, a crisp clamor from the grass broke her loneliness. About 10 feet in front of her, it starts shuffling. Her eyes grow wide at a particular spot as it ravages to find any clue of what might be rolling underneath. Nothing came in vision.

               The grass intimidates her, catfishing even. Something is moving, hidden under the grass and it starts rolling forward, towards her. Terror quickly took control.

'RUN'  She turns on her heel and starts running with occasional turn back to see that the ‘thing’ in the grass-catching up to her– a bit closer with every passing minute.

“HELP!!!” a shriek shiver through each fiber of her being but none surfaces, even to her. She screams again and again, to no prevail. Crispy shuffles getting louder and louder. The wicked thing in the grass in now deadly close–almost touching her– and she jolts up to sit on her bed.

                Another nightmare. Another panic-filled morning. Another wake, covered in a cold sweat. It took her a few minutes to clear up her mind, to knock off the shadows of grass swaying on the white wall across her bed. To convince herself that it was just a dream.

                A heave of sigh is what it takes to break the terrifying clutch, to realize her body is back under her control. Putting on her robe, she escapes her room to downstairs. Mike is already sitting at the kitchen island, having a toast with plain water. He turns his head to look at her

“Good morning sweetheart…Had a good night's sleep?”

Sarah glares at him with pure annoyance, pacing around him.

“Good morning, Mr. Michelle Ricci” and grabs his glass of water, pours the content into the sink.

“Oi!!! I was still drinking that” Mike shrugs his shoulder.

                She roll her eyes at him, open the refrigerator, and fill the cup with cold milk “You need all the essential nutrients to build strength. After all, there are a lot of vulnerable girls lined up in this street, waiting to be saved by you”. Clearly, she is mocking him.

“So, you admit that you are vulnerable!!!” Mike looked straight into her eyes with raise eyebrows.

‘Oppps moment’ Sarah bit the tip of her tongue and holds her breath causing him to chuckle.

He gently pats in front of him, on the table, inviting her to take a seat.

“Come on, tell me what happened”  a gentle demand than a request.

“If you want, I can charge you for this. Then I have to maintain patient confidentiality” They both put on a gentle smile.

               Sarah gazes at her lap. Her sleeping issue has been terrible since THE NIGHT and nightmares are getting much more vivid, day by day. Tight, aching chest and throat in the early morning is unbearable. She knew what the underlying cause is but instead of subsiding with time, it is getting worse.

“You remember last Saturday?” she relives THE NIGHT even if she doesn't want to.

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                STRIKE OF MIDNIGHT might have instilled chaos in princess Cinderella but it does nothing more than a twitch to Sarah Patel– a subtle reminder for her circadian clock to start ticking perhaps, but that's all it. Damp hair brood a numbing cold beneath her white t-shirt. The hem grazes against the white tiles as she sits cross legs on the floor. Her eyes trace along the veins of a large Monstera leaf, while her hand pulls down a rag incoherence. The house buzz with a thick silence until the acoustic guitar of ‘Believer’ bombards the space and Sarah resurface from her void of meditation, darting to her phone.

“I'm starving!!! Let's go out for dinner?”.

“At midnight?!?!?” the little sarcastic exclamation in her tone is not to be missed by her dearest friend, Jessica. With obvious suspicion, her brain frantically googles for a restaurant that would still serve at this late hour.

“Yeah, I know!!! That’s why we are going to the pub for dinner. Get ready. Mike will come to pick you up in about 45 minutes” without sparing a second for protest, the line beeps dead.

’No point of arguing now’

                  And here she thought, for once, it is going to be a serene Saturday. With a sigh, she carelessly throws her phone on the sofa. Refreshes and trades her Hello Kitty pajamas for a pair of black jeans shorts at record speed. A white off-shoulder knitted blouse stops in line with her crotch, accompanied with a knee-high boot; right in time for the doorbell to ring.

“In a minute!!!” she shouts from upstairs, assuming it's Mike and jogs to her balcony door, which she tries to keep open as much as possible. Mother nature–who'd always been her friend– decides to play opponent when a pesky little insect brushes against her eyeball.

An unnamed, short-lived creature with no sixth sense.

                A guttering hiss slithers at the tip of her tongue as she rubs her eyes. Bad idea!!!

                Excruciating pain burns across her eyeball. In her 26 years of existence, multiple diversion has been bolt anchored in front of her; her mother, father, friends, teachers, circumstances, the duck-butt-mouth aunty. But never in a million years did she think a clumsy little bug will be one of them, setting a course of chain reaction into her life.

“Shit!!!” she yelp.

               She just moved into this contemporary house 3 weeks ago. As a realtor, it is her dream to own a house, bought with her own earning–her own house. Merely a month ago, she finally pitched for it. Only a handful of residents had moved in at the time she received the house key since it's fairly a newly developed area. Reluctant to waste more time or money in her old, rented apartment, she moved in pronto. It is a promising community with a security guard, fences, streetlight, and backup power generator but none of it is fully functioning at this point. And as if priorly timed, the electricity went off.

               With a deep sigh, she walk, or, fumble her way to the ground floor, towards the door in the hope maybe Mike could help her out.

 “Mike!!! A bug ate my eyeballs!!!” with a scrunchy face and squeeze shut eyes, she waits for the typical reaction preprogrammed into her brain. Waiting for his panic fingers to grab her temples and his mouth to start rambling abusive words. But the expectation left hanging in midair. Dubious, she strained her eyes, pushing one side to open just a smidge. A manly shadow stands tall in front of her.

“Mike???” Still, only wind howling can be heard. A red alarm blares in her brain behind burning eyes. Caving into her instinct, she slams the door to shut but a sharp thud travels through the wooden surface to vibrate against her palm, and the door jams midway. Sarah is not a super-thin nor fragile girl. She is curvy and considerably strong enough to defend herself. Multiple fights and riots in school (and Saturday night pubs) would preach for it but at this moment, she couldn’t move the door even an inch, depicting the depth of what she is facing. Grunting, she forced herself to open her eyes– at least a little bit of vision will give her confidence.       

                 She tilts her head a bit upwards to reach the summit of the shadow in front. Moonlight cast a glint over his muscular arms. With one hand palming the door, he is frozen in his own dilemma. The woman in front of him ignites a sudden, unwanted chemical reaction within him.

She is sexy as hell that the name ‘SARAH PATEL’ should be listed as the eighth deadly sin.

Smooth shoulders that his lips could glide effortlessly.

Prominent bust, just the right fill for his palms.

A plunging waistline that would fit perfectly into his rigid loop of an arm.

Curvy hips, strumming his starving crave with each gentle sway.

Deliciously exposed thighs; mapping the ways to her sex.

                Two extremes– the angle and the devil–were both mud wrestling within him. His sharp eyes linger on her full lips; visible as grey cast due to the electricity cut out. His throat dries up all of a sudden, thirsty for a quench.

‘You have been literally stalking this woman for so long!!! A kiss wouldn’t hurt’

‘That is like forcing her!!! She can’t even see u!!! She is blind-sided!!!'

‘Just a tiny little peck on the lower lips…that should satisfy your craving towards her until the day you do propose’

                 He swiftly licks his lower lips, intrigued at the idea of temporary gratification yet stalling behind the bush his angel has grown. One is slowly overweighing the other, cued by his raising heartbeat and shallow breath.

                  Tempted for that little peck, he reaches out his other hand and grabs the back of her neck, ever so gently. The warmth of a big, rough hand wrapping the nape of her neck made Sarah’s heartbeat race twice as fast.

‘Something is wrong!!!’  her inner voice prancing her.

                  Before she could utter a word of warning, the man leans forward and smash his lips with her's. A sharp gasp shut her lips tight as her feet step back, not giving room for any encouragement. Her hands with their own brain, begin slamming into this abomination who is taking control of her. Unfazed, he resorts to gently biting and sucking to make her open her lips. Eerie sighs fan her cheeks. All her senses heighten exponentially, mapping the intruder's frame, amplifying every minute pressure on her body in her blind world. Both his hand slips to the nape of her neck, holding her steady. Thumbs on her cheeks pulsing gentle pressure to make her pout. His tongue forcefully pushed against her teeth but she wouldn’t budge. This excites him even more. He bites her lower lips and pulls it back causing her to hiss in pain, finally gaining entry to her mouth. Delightful sweet minty flavor causes a low moan from the monster.

                Her fist throbs, hitting his chest with all her might. She couldn't help mentally estimating his details. Definitely bigger than her, at least thrice her size. Stubby graze at the corner of her lips suggests his beard. Apart from that, she is in too much chaos to read anything. Fighting only makes things worse. His fingernails slowly claw up into her hair and grab a fistful. It didn’t hurt more than an ant sting but now he claims full control over the position of her head. After all, a kiss is all he wanted.

He couldn’t stop, diving deep into a pool of pleasure.

He couldn’t control his urges even when his soul begs him to.

                  The simple kiss arrests him, evolving into a more and more violent gesture, as if he is going to cannibalize her. His body pushes her to the white wall beside them. Sighs and groans deepen by second.

                  Submerged head down into a well of water, her eternal fight shift from freedom to a slip of breath. Buzzing lingers around her ears as her fight began losing its core and her bearing. Cold sweat drips down her forehead. Sensing her limpness, he moves to her neck. Not wasting a second, she drew a sharp breath that notch at her throat. His inner lips warmly left behind a trail of wetness. She eases a tad at the surge of oxygen and diffuses the pressure in her forehead, just for a moment though, when a sharp pain stabs her neck. A bite, for sure.

“NO” She let out a cry and whimper, resulting in him coming back to her lips just to keep her quiet. This time, Sarah is sure she has signed her death penalty, dated today. Gratified sigh and soft groans of the man, contradicting his violent kisses, slashes her senses. Strange enough, his grip on her hair didn’t hurt her.

A voice in his head hammer harder, begging him

 ‘Stop, she is the woman you love…’

Gradually, his kiss became gentler and gentler. He didn’t have the complete willpower to let go as he came back several times for a peck on her lips.

                  He forced himself to let go and Sarah’s resistance cause her to land with a low thud on the wall. She took deep breaths. Her whole 5.5 feet tall body tremble, residing mostly on her lips. She slides down to the floor slowly with a few drops of tears rolling down her cheeks. Landing on her butt, she drew in her knees to her chest and whimpers.

“Please don’t hurt me….”

                  But the men had already left the house before she could beg for her life.