Page 7

Jessica

I wake up in the dark. My arms are pinned to my sides, my head trapped in place with something, and there is a cool metal piece against either side of my cheeks.

I don’t understand, and I press out with my legs and arms, trying to move, but I’m on my back and there’s no give in these restraints.

This is a dream. It has to be. I— What did I do last night?

Where did I go? Did I roll Molly again? Is that what this is?

A bad trip? They say that every hit can be different, and the last two were good, so maybe I was due.

I knew that asshole from Laguna was a mistake.

That goofy grin, the way he tried to press my hand against his crotch before we even left the club.

Oh shit, I’m pissing. It’s hot and wet and I can smell it.

I pinch my lips shut and try to twist my face away, but I’m held in place by this thing, and I can feel the urine seeping into my underwear and God, I hope I’m not wearing that white leather skirt that I borrowed from that girl at work, she will absolutely kill me if I get pee all over that, and I can’t believe I’m still peeing but oh my God, it feels so good to just let it out.

My stomach cramp relaxes as my bladder empties, and I wonder how long I’ve been holding it.

I wet my lips and realize that I’m not wearing a gag, and if I make a noise, someone—maybe that asshole from Laguna ... shit, what was his name? Maybe he’ll hear me. I lick my lips again and try to scream, but only a hoarse yelp comes out. After swallowing, I try again.

This time my throat works, and I manage a shrill scream. I pause, waiting for the sound of steps, of someone rushing to save me, but there’s nothing. I scream again, this one longer and louder, and from somewhere far away, her voice so faint I can barely hear it, another girl screams back.

It doesn’t give me comfort, and this must definitely be a dream.

A nightmare.