~Hey everyone! Don't worry, I won't take up too much of your time:) I just want to let you know that this is my 1st story that I submitted to Fanfiction so I'm really nervous and excited about how this works! I like writing stories based on my dreams, so tell me if something doesn't make sense. Thanx ;)

No matter where I look my eyes can't seem to focus.

I have been slowly blinking for… I don't know how long.

Everywhere I look is blurry as if there was a thick, fuzzy fog plastered over my retinas.

There is dirt mixed with mud all over this grimy floor, which my face is currently pressed against.

I still can't move any part of my body, just thinking about moving makes my throbbing headache punish me in advance.

I might be hungry, that is if I could only feel my stomach. Where am I and how long have I been here?

I can feel my heartbeat slow down and my eyelids start to close again.

This has happened over and over again; me going in and out of consciousness.

For all I know, I could have even repeated the same things in my head every time I woke up.

Each and every time is the same throbbing and dizzy feeling.

Whenever I regain consciousness I get this mystified and scatterbrained sensation and the gut feeling that it isn't safe here.

Where am I…?

…

…

…

Days, or weeks, later I am finally able to lift my head from the repulsive ground.

It smells like a mixture of crumbly dirt, acidic dust and dry blood.

I look around dizzily moving only my eyes because my neck hurts so much.

I am finding it hard to even control my eye muscles. If I try to look to the right or left they either go too far or stop too short and mostly they just keep spinning and swimming in dizzing directions.

It is still very dark. The millions of miniature stars belong to my eyes so I guess they are still getting used to the darkness and my ears are muted so I can't hear very well.

But there is a faint sound…

It's like a thumping or clattering, I can't tell. But by now it went away anyway…

Dink, bong, dink, bong, dink, bong, dink, bong…

I try my best to clear my throat, but pain rakes up and down my esophagus. I ignore it, "who are you?" I ask weekly in the direction of the shadow slumped against the wall.

"I'd be willing to bet that you have been asleep even longer than I was in the beginning," the shadow replied with a small, feminine voice that echoed softly back to me.

"Huh?" I said then an onslaught of agonizing coughs tore through me for a few minutes which left me out of breath. The girl waited patiently while my gasps for air slowly diminished. She opened her mouth to speak but then closed it again looking thoughtfully at me as my breathing got shallower. Then she watched my head collapse back to the floor.

I didn't wake up until sometime later.

When I did, I could hear a sound.

It wasn't the same sound as before; it was different, somehow lighter, as if very far away. It was like a murky dripping.

I sat up slowly as my headache throbbed loudly and I struggled to lift my eyelids.

When I pushed my weak body into an upright position and used the wall to support my back, a heavy rattling sound followed my arm movements and I suddenly became aware of the intensely cold and heavy wristbands that limited me from moving any further.

I'm a prisoner.

Keep reading it gets better... or worse! well better for you not so good for Jasmine. Review!