unhinge

adjective

1. mentally unbalanced; deranged

I woke up to someone arguing on a phone nearby. At first I couldn't understand where I was and wondered if it was in the back of the car like before, but I was upright, not lying down like I would have expected. Looking up a plastic lid covered over me and I could see light seeping in around the edges of the lid. I recognised then that I was stuffed in a wheelie bin. My feet were tied together, along with my hands and tape covered my mouth from ear to ear. I began crying as a deep throbbing in my knee reverberated up my thigh and into my foot. Hardly healed and it was damaged all over again. I tried really hard to keep the whimpering down, not giving the sick bastard out there anything to get his kicks off on.

I'd already been punched so much and even while I was out to it, they had still laid in more damage. My body felt bruised, my ribs cracked, my shoulder stung like a gravel burn, and my bare feet were stinging from cuts and abrasions. They had taken everything off me, leaving me in my hot pant undies and my t-shirt and bra.

I was scared, shaking, worried that they would rape me or even kill me. It wouldn't be the first time threatened like this, but I hate it and the night mares at night will lay me out for months after this.

The crying made it hard to breath and I had to clear my nasal passages just so I could breathe with the seal over my mouth. I ignored my shame as I wiped snot onto my right shoulder, but breathing was more important. I calmed myself down and spoke to myself in my head, like I was talking to a kidnap victim over the phone.

Ok, you're OK. You are alive, you have air, you are currently safe even if the locale is unknown. Right this minute, you aren't being hurt or killed or, or anything. Don't think about how much worse this could get. Just hang in there, someone is looking for you. Grant saw you, he knows you were taken. He will ring Wallace and Wallace will get big Mr Security man Denault to use all means necessary to get you back.

But do you think he will? My inner self-doubt asked me.

Yes, of course he will. He will have to answer to Mrs Overmeyer if he doesn't use all of this resources to get you back, safe and sound. And he still owes me ten million bucks.

I nod to myself, clearing my nose again quietly, then look up again. Holes had been drilled into the side of the bin and I could feel fresh air circulating through. Outside another call interrupted the silence and the male voice spoke again. I could only hear bits and pieces as he walked towards and away from the wheelie bin I was tucked into, like he was pacing up and down the echoing place we were in.

"Yes, I have the bitch... can pay you what I said... But if she hadn't got herself... No! You don't have any say in... Yes, I don't care if she doesn't love... No! She put her in the hospital... It wont take long... Yes, I will exact my revenge... I can and I will... I don't care, just go to hell!" The guy hung up then swore his head off. It felt like he was losing the plot, like he was decompensating, his personality unravelling. His need to avenge the unrequited love of his life was strong, you could hear in it the craze of his voice. I shivered, imaging the dead look on some strangers face as he abuses me.

Don't think about that. Just breathe and focus of keeping yourself safe. You need oxygen, you need calm, you need focus.

But didn't you hear him, he did this in revenge on behalf of Eyva. Sick bastard. Gah! Why does she always manage to collect the mentally retardard ones?

I know right?

The faint bell rung around the space, like that of a front door. A door opens and closes nearby, heavy feet walking sounding further and further away.

I really want to yell out for help, for that new person to rescue me, but two people talking move closer until they are nearby, and I don't know what to do.

They are speaking like they are friends, talking about the game last weekend, their drinks together the other night. I was trying really hard not to breathe as I felt if I made a noise there would be two attackers. I didn't know what to do. The panic rose again and I started crying again. My nose blocked up so I carefully snotted it clear again, blowing it out quickly, making a noise I didn't mean to make.

"What was that?" The new voice said. Oh? Was this someone I knew? Liam Fergurson? But before I'd even had the chance to make any further noise to cry out for help, the first guy, unhinged as he was, moved the two of them out of the large empty space, probably a garage, and left me all alone again.

What felt like hours a new voice joined my kidnapper in the room. I drifted awake from my unsettled slumber when the lid was lifted off. Laughter and unfamiliar faces peered down at me, sneering and spitting on my face.

I looked down, making myself as small as I possibly could. The main guy, in an effort to show off, retold the story of how they kidnapped me, humiliating me and driving me further into disappear. The front door rang again, the lid shut away and the garage room closed up.

Ten minutes later the lid slammed open causing me to squeal through my nose. Kidnapper number one leered down at me and started the verbal abuse again to my face, a solo act this time.

"Too many people snooping around again, little bitch. I need you to take a drink with a little something in it and then have a little sleep, since what I have planned for you isn't set up yet."

I shook my head, trying really hard not to cry in front of this deluded sicko.

"Well, you can either drink this, or I can drop a ton of bricks on your head, what's it going to be? Or I could just strangled you until you pass out, but then I want to keep you until later, don't I?" He smiled so horribly, that I decided option one might be best. When he mentioned the little something in the drink, I realised he may be the guy who tried to roofie us at the banquet with the date rape drug. I'd never met him before, but he sure was fixated on Eyva and carrying out revenge for her.

"Option number one? Two or Three?" He asked with a malicious smile on his face.

I quickly blink once, yelling through the tape, "ONE!" The skin on my lips started to bleed, copper tasting in my mouth.

He gets the idea. Frowning he disappears and brings back a bottle. Ripping the tape off my lips, I moan in pain. He lifts the water to my lips and pours it in. I choke on it as its coming out too fast, the taint of the drug evident in the water. I drink all he has to give me, then quickly speak before he puts the tape back on.

"Please don't tape me up, I can't breath through my nose property. Please, I'll be a good girl." Ugh! I hate sounding so girly and vulnerable, but I needed air more than I need dignity right now.

"No can do. You will call for help then my little fun and games will come to and end." He shook his head, in mock concern. Revulsion threatened to bring the water back up.

"Please, I can't breath. You've already drugged me, what will I be able to say while I'm knocked out? If I die because of drowning in snot, wont that cut your game time short?" I hiccup a breath, then wipe the snot on my shoulder again. He sees the snot, pauses then closes the lid with a frown.

I bow my head, thankful that I can breathe freely.

"Thank you," I call out quietly as the guy walks away. No, its not Stockholm syndrome, I just want to put him into a false sense of security, that I'll be a good girl so he will leave his guard down making it possible for me to escape some how.

The drug quickly kicks in and I'm left alone in darkness once more.