Chapter 8

My eyes slowly open and I vigorously rub my clammy palms on my eyelids in an attempt to rid myself of drowsiness. I prop myself onto my elbows looking around the small room, the creamy white walls are bare and the dark brown dresser is absent of any ownership. There is a small desk in the corner of the room, identical color to the dresser, with a few novels and a vase full of fake flowers. The floor is empty except for a dark red rug in front of the window, in between the dresser and the full sized bed that Carina is laying on. My hands glide over the rough woolen comforter, the reds and browns are dull and worn out under my golden fingertips. That Bastard drugged me. I slowly slide out of the bed, as my stiff muscles protest and tip toe my way to the brown door, quietly turning the handle to the right. My head peaks out of the door looking down the hall as if I was crossing a street, left, right, left, clear. I slip out the door and move to the r