"Who are you?" I hear my voice asking. It might almost sound brave, if I didn't know how scared I truly am.
"You will call me Mr. King. I hear you've met my son already, I hope he treated you well," he laughed, his laugh sharp and empty, not a shred of humor held. This is Lusso's dad."You will do well here, you seem already very broken by just a single night alone, your weakness will make you easy to mold. I'll have fun with you." His voice disgusts me. His words sicken me. I hate him, I hate him and I haven't even seen his face. I hope I see him in hell. A fire is in my stomach and I'm not afraid of this sick man. My fear has slipped away and it's taken with it the little logic I posses. The numbness is returning to me.
"You can go fuck yourself," I spit into the darkness.
"Neil!" He barks, "Turn these damn lights on!" Neil must be outside.
In a few seconds I'm blinded by the glaring fluorescent bulbs above us. A hand is on my neck, a scarred face is inches from mine. I'm seeing stars because my head was slammed against the concrete wall, and I can't stop my mouth from running. "You piece of shit. You think you're tough just because you can come in here and slam a little girl around?"
Crack! My head is again thrown backwards, and the pain scatters all the way down my spine. The back of my head feels warm, and I start to feel dizzy. The scarred face swims back and forth in my vision. "Your gonna have to learn quickly how to control that sharp tongue of yours, or maybe I'll just cut it out of that pretty little mouth you have." The wind is stolen from my lungs as he pulls his large fist back, and smashes it into my stomach. I fight to regain air, but the grip around my throat makes the typically ordinary task seem impossible. I feel sick.
I'm thrown down onto the ground, this time my shoulder thankfully taking most the impact. I feel sick. I want to throw up but I think it would hurt my stomach worse, and I will do anything to not intensify the current ache.
I'm kicked hard in the back, mostly on my side and fortunately not my spine. The force rolls me onto my back, where I'm left looking up the tall body of Mr. King. I smile, and it earns me another sharp blow to the side. This man hits really frickin' hard.
"Dumb bitch," he glares down at me, and spits on me before charging out. "Keep her alive," his bitter voice demands to Neil, who then rushes in and kneels by my side. I lift one weak hand to try and remove the spit splatter from my face, and Neil helps me out by running his thumb over the thick liquid. I feel disgusting.
Neil's face is fuzzy, then clear, then moving and still. I am hit with the overwhelming desire to sleep. I fade a little, by Neil shakes me back to consciousness. "Annabella, listen to me, you cannot go to sleep. Your head is bleeding in at least one spot, and you definitely have a concussion, so you need to stay awake."
"That's a common... mis- uh. Missss, mis, miscon... seption," I slur. I just can't seem to piece the sounds together. Verbalizing my thoughts feels like so much effort.
"Fuck," Neil mutters, then calls loudly for someone named Lusso. I know Lusso. We're friends.
"Cazzo! come è successo?" Lusso shouts as he bursts in the room. (Fuck! How did this happen?)
"Your... da, da, daaad. Ww.. ee.... Tal... ta- lked." Why aren't my words coming out right? "Whh...yyy. Ugh!!! I-- I- ca.. can't .. TALK!" I'm getting incredibly frustrated. I've heard this is common for concussions, but I didn't make it less scary. What if this is a permanent thing? What if I never speak normally again?
But I don't worry long before the sleep comes again. I'm just so tired, and everything hurts. My throat, back, sides, head, and stomach. I'm dizzy, and it's soon chased by nausea as I'm being carried. I cough into my hand, and a red residue is left behind. It smells like blood.
Neil and Lusso's voices are around me, but I know Lusso's is the closest. My head is hanging at an uncomfortable angle, and my throat feels stretched and torn.
I'm in a dark room, and I know I recognize the place, I just don't know why. Lusso sets me down in a dark bed, and he sits next to me. "Whe... where?" I try to formulate a sentence, but I don't have to finish for him to understand.
"We're in my room, you woke up here this morning. Remember?" he try's to make me understand, but I don't know. I can't quite find the memory of this place.
He must have seen the confusion written on my face, because he doesn't question me further. Neil rushes into the room, and a small foreign thing is put in my mouth, and I'm told to swallow. They hand me water and tell me it will take the pain away. How is water going to make me feel better? I slowly get the water to my mouth and am able to swallow, but my throat feels like its trying to swallow a rock and it doesn't want it. I push it down.
Something cold is on the back of my head, and I touch it. My finger tips confirm it's very cold, but when I look at my hand again my fingers are also stained red.
Lusso's trying to talk to me, but I can't really hear him and I'm just squinting at him. As if that will help. Everything is foggy, the walls are the floor and the ceiling is the walls and the world is upside down.
Lusso carries me and sets me in something cold. My cloths stick tightly to me, scared that if they don't hold on they may be frozen. I'm in a bathroom, in a bathtub of freezing water.
My vision finally latches onto Neil's face, and I hear his voice. "Anna, pay attention. You have to stay awake until you aren't showing symptoms of the concussions. You cannot fall asleep. Okay?"
"I. I can-- have, ha-ve talk," I try to explain. But even I recognize that I'm not very convincing, and I know battling sleep for the next few hours is going to be hell.