~HH1~

~HH1~

My head hurts. I raise my hand to it, find a bump the size of my fist. Ouch. No wonder I’ve got a pounding headache.

My hand. I can’t see it. When did it get so dark? Why does my head hurt so much? Because of the bump… I can’t think straight. Whatever hit me did a good job of it, because now I have no idea what’s going on.

I grope around in the blackness for a bit, find a wall and stick to it. The longer I follow it, though, the longer I get the feeling I’m being watched. But that’s ridiculous. It’s pitch black and I can’t see a thing. How could anyone else? I’m paranoid. Must be the head.

I think about sitting down. I’m hopelessly lost. But can you be lost if you never knew where you were in the first place?

It’s not home, that’s for sure. I can’t hear Ella watching her three-year-old cartoons, I can’t hear the whining hum of my dad out in the garden. In fact I can’t hear very much at all.

Light, in the distance. The faint glow lets me see I’m in a corridor, thin and running a long way down. I can see enough to start heading towards it.

I reach the source and see a candle. It’s freshly lit - not much wax has run down its side yet. It seems to be some kind of kitchen, complete with table, chairs and napkins laid out cleanly, folded neatly. Seated for five. Each chair is seated in front of a plate with knives, forks and spoons all ready for them. All that’s missing is the food.

Food. Hunger stirs inside me. When did I last eat? I had a chicken sandwich at two, and that was… I don’t remember how long ago. I check my left wrist and find my watch gone. I check my pocket. My phone, my iPod, everything is gone.

Looking back at the table there’s something I’ve missed. A note lies in the middle of the plates. An envelope addressed to Sam. Addressed to me.

The candle is fading despite it having only just been lit. I open the note and begin to read.