Page 2 of Captured Onyx

Chapter 1

Malia

I've never been tormented by a headache as bad as this one. The pain is throbbing through my skull. It feels as if a small but vicious hammer is slowly splitting my head into parts. I hide in the blackness, seeking comfort as I wait for the piercing pulsations to stop.

The agony weighs me down, forcing me to keep my eyes shut after I wake up from a slumber that was induced by force, leaving me confused.

What happened? And where am I?

I had just gotten back to my room. I was happy - and drunk, having celebrated a bit too much. I never drink, but tonight was a special occasion. It was my best friend's wedding, and it was a crazy one at that. They had decided to elope, calling me on short notice to come with them as their only witness. Despite everything that has happened between me and my friend Liliane, we were happy, elated, and even a little boisterous. I wanted to act crazy, just like she was. Liliane has lost so much, dared so much, and in the end, she risked everything to reach a pinnacle of happiness that seemed unattainable if she hadn’t dared to do something insane.

I went through hell with her. She forgave me for what I did, but I’m not sure if I can ever forgive myself.

It's probably time I stopped blaming myself because Liliane is happy now, and she wanted me to share in that happiness with her. On her wedding day.

We were having so much fun. We drank. A lot. Too much. My head was spinning when they guided me up to my room. Even though I repeatedly insisted that I was able to walk on my own, they supported me as I tripped and stumbled through the casino.

They helped me onto the elevator, selected the button to my floor, and steadied me as the car climbed. Once off the elevator, they helped me to my room, unlocked my door, and guided me over to the bed.

And then they left.

An abrupt sound like a heavy door slamming shut reverberates in the distance, the noise seeming to come from far away, like it is being muffled by walls or doors. All I know is that I'm inside a closed room and lying on a soft mattress with sheets that smell like citrus, but not in a good way. The smell is pungent and doesn’t go well with the atmosphere of the room.

And there's one thing that really unnerves me.

My hands are tied. And so are my ankles.

I'm lying on my back and my hands are tied together at the front, resting on my belly. I try to calm my breathing as the panic settles in.

My ankles are not tied together, though, but tied to something instead. Is it the bed frame? Am I even on a bed? The only way I can know for sure is if I open my eyes.

But I'm too scared.

I'm too scared of what I might see. Too scared to make all of this real. Once I open my eyes, I can no longer pretend that this is just a bad dream, or that it’s my imagination after drunkenly passing out in my hotel room.

Liliane and her new husband Jayson left the room. I can still see the concerned expression on her face as she cast me one last look.

"I'm fine," I slurred, adding a weak but honest smile. I was tired, oh so tired. All I wanted to do was to fall asleep and stop the room from spinning.

So that's what I did. I passed out just moments after the door closed behind them, and I tumbled into a dreamless sleep.

But something happened after that.

There was a noise coming from outside. A knocking that started out gentle at first, but it kept growing louder and more aggressive the longer I didn't react to it. The door was shaking on its hinges, causing a ruckus that was impossible to ignore, even in my pathetic state.

I forced myself to open my heavy eyelids and get up off the bed.

I dragged myself toward the door, stumbling and silently cursing my best friend. I thought it must be Liliane who was pounding on the door with such vicious force, returning to check on me, driven by misplaced worry instead of enjoying her first night as a newlywed.

I was so sure it was her.

But it wasn't.

My heart is racing, thumping against my rib cage with such ferocity that it's almost painful. I shift my tied hands to my chest, pressing them against my left boob as if to keep my heart from escaping.

I'm scared.

I'm fucking terrified.

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