Daria came back to awareness slowly, her right temple aching from where it must have hit the steering wheel of the SUV. Slowly, the events leading to the accident filtered into her waking mind, the arguments with her parents, the slow realization that she must have tormented them horribly, when all the time she had thought she was just being an individual. The wasted times she had failed to bond, with Quinn and others, with Jodie, Mack, Andrea, and other people whose close friendship could have changed her perceptions. Of the disastrous mess she had made of her flirtation with Tom, of how she had almost lost Jane's friendship, the only person who's opinion of her had mattered through her years at the asylum called "Lawndale High."
She slowly became aware she was sitting upright, strapped into a seat. It didn't feel like she was still in the front seat of her mom's SUV, though. A strong chemical smell covered her like a fog, and her skin itched. She couldn't feel her glasses on her face, so she must have lost them in the crash. She blinked her weak eyes open, trying to make some sense of her surroundings.
To her surprise, she wasn't outside at all. She was sitting in a wheelchair, parked in the middle of what looked like her sister, Quinn's bedroom! Her first movement to stand up was stopped by the straps securing her body, arms, and legs to the extremely sturdy wheelchair. She also found out she could only grunt in muffled tones, due to the duct tape around her mouth. Daria fought down the rising panic, breathing deeply. Her body ached all over, she had a bandage on her forehead, so she must have been take out of the wreckage of the SUV.
Okay, this sure isn't the hospital, so I must have been picked up by a stranger, who took me home, and used first aid on me, after strapping me into a wheelchair.
Feeling the cool air in the room on places where it shouldn't be able to reach, Daria looked down her body, panic mixing with rage. She was wearing a tight, pink, midriff exposing shirt, with a big yellow Smiley face right on the center of her chest, which was showing a lot more than it normally did. Daria wasn't too surprised, even in her panic, to see that she was no longer wearing her black pleated skirt, but the other half of Quinn's patented look, tight, stylish jeans. Remembering the chemicals she had smelled, she swing her head around, so that her hair came into view.
Dammit! Someone not only kidnaped me, but changed my clothes, and even dyed my hair to make me look like Quinn! Probably one of those three goon's that follow her everywhere like lost puppies! Joey, Jeffy or Jasper, or whatever the last ones name is! I didn't think any of them had the smarts or the guts to do something like this! Unless, I've been kidnaped by a strange, Quinn worshiping cult, and they are going to sacrifice me to the goddess. Which would sound a lot better if I wasn't tied down like this! I will not only kill all of them, slowly, for this stupid stunt, but I'll strangle Quinn with my bare hands if she has had anything to do with this!
The door in front of her opened, and Daria dimly made out the smiling figure of ...Stacy Rowe?
"Oh, good, you're awake, now, Quinn!"
Even through the smothering duct tape, Daria's burst of profanity was understood.
"Oh, no, Quinn, you mustn't talk like that. Only unpopular people resort to swearing!"
Daria fought desperately, unable to free herself. The sturdy wheelchair had its wheels locked, so she wasn't even able to rock it back and forth. Still weak from the accident, she soon stopped, breathing heavily through her nose.
"Oh, and now you're all sweaty, and made your makeup run! You poor thing, you just can't take care of yourself, can you? Lucky I was able to pull over, and rescue year, before all those police and firemen showed up. I've studied first aid, so I was able to patch you up, and bring you here! It's an old bomb shelter under my backyard, that nobody else knows about. It took a lot of time, but I made it perfect for you!"
"Stacy giggled, and picking up a hand mirror, held it up to Daria's face. To Daria's horror, makeup had been perfectly applied, along with lipstick, eye shadow, blush, and the other elements in every fashionable teen girls arsenal.
"See? Perfect, isn't it? Now we'll be best friends forever and ever, and I'll take good care of you, and feed you, and clean you, and ..."
Even muffled in the duct tape, Daria's scream echoed in the room, as the smiling Stacy kept on chattering in her happy, happy, voice.