Onehundred Seventyseven

Ouch.

That was the first thought (basically) when I came back into consciousness. I was on my side and I couldn't remember how I got there or why I was in pain. Felt like a couch. I was on my side on a couch. I wanted to open my eyes but thought that I wouldn't like what I would see. Somehow I felt it wouldn't be that great a scene, as if I was in an action movie and I would open my eyes only to see my fiancee gaged and bound to a chair. But then... wouldn't I hear that? Unless he was unconscious as well, I suppose. Kinda like MI: III but roles reversed.

Curiosity took over (especially since there's no fiancee in my life) and the first thing I saw was lipstick smeared onto a plain white coffee mug. Huh. It was resting on a coaster, one of those cork coasters from the '80's. There was a glass-topped coffee table underneath that, not the length of the couch. But my head wasn't some how in the middle of the couch was it? Who would design the room that way? You don't put a short coffee table in the front of one end of a couch, you'd put it in the middle.

Okay so the rest of the room- ah! It hurt to move my head. Like someone had hit me in the head with a baseball bat. Although I suppose it could have been a hockey stick or golf club or the leg of a desk... I don't know why the image of a baseball bat came to mind first. I suppose that's the first thing you think about when someone bashes you over the head, that they used a baseball bat.

I wasn't bound or gaged, so why did it hurt to move my head? Why couldn't I remember anything? I should make a phone call... only this wasn't my apartment, so where was I? There was that question to answer first. I was wearing my blue Superman t-shirt as well as my favorite pair of jeans, so it must have been Thursday because that's what I wear when I know I'll see that cute guy down at the food court. I know he likes comic books and also I saw him with that black Superman t-shirt that one time, no it was twice!

Oh right, where am I? The ...house? looked neatly kept, smelled neatly kept, and owned by someone who either found television useless or didn't keep one in the living room. Oh, there must be a girl living here right, cause of the lipstick. Right! Uh... had I been drinking with some of the girls? No because it didn't really feel like a hangover.. it felt more like being bashed over the head with a baseball bat (okay so the difference wasn't much but I also didn't taste alcohol in my mouth). And I didn't taste blood either. I felt the back of my head and there wasn't a bump.

Right then there was a voice, a soft male voice, as though he was trying to be soothing. He said "It's good to see you're finally awake". I looked around to see where the voice might be coming from, but saw no one. Oh! There was a video camera in the ceiling corner on my right. And there's the door. "Yes, you can go if you'd like but I would advice on hearing what I've got to say first." This time he sounded a little more instructive.

"Where am I? Have you kidnapped me?" I asked, my voice a little groggy. "It's not like my family has a lot of money or anythin-"

"Oh no, it's nothing like that". His voice a little softer, "Don't you remember?" he asked. "No, I don't... remember what? Is this some kind of prank, because if it is... you better show your face, you're starting to freak me out a bit here..." My hands started to sweat, I looked to the door... would they be waiting for me on the other side or could I just leave? He said to listen to him, not that he was talking right now... "You had something to tell me before I left?" I asked, trying to sound like I wasn't too worried or anxious. I didn't want to set anyone off, if that was a possibility.