Prologue to my novel "Paralleled"

     

I would really appreciate some feedback on this. Thanks for reading! :)





      The silence assaulted her senses as she slowly became increasingly aware of the dull throb that grew ever louder in her ears.  A ghastly feeling of something between dread and bewilderment washed over her as the sensation of cold ice water flooded her body, leaving her limbs frozen and numb.  Moving could not be any more difficult.  The attempt to lift her head proved unsuccessful due to the fierce pain stabbing through her temples.

         Mustering what seemed like the last bit of strength she had left, she lifted a weak hand to the ginger spot at the back of her head where the ache felt the strongest.  Shock gripped her as her fingers met gobs of a warm gelatinous substance causing her hair to clump together in spots.  Now, through the pain, she could only assume that substance to be blood. 

         Fighting against an apparent discomfort, she carefully began to open her eyes, just a hair length at a time.  Bright particles of light erupted at once reminding her of silver-white fireworks.  The violent sting accompanying these menacing speckles forced her to shut her eyes tight.  Waiting a short minute for the pain to subside, she drew courage and tried again.  Succeeding at last, she found herself unhappy to discover herself engulfed in a blanket of darkness so thick and suffocating she thought for a moment there might be a trash bag over her head. 

         In a far corner of the room, she noticed a tiny sliver of light near the floor.  Focusing her eyes and straining against the pain, she realized that light came from the bottom of a door.  Her heart began beating faster and faster as the prospect of salvation momentarily squelched the building fear of death.  A fleeting moment of sudden hope and it was gone.  Yet again, anxiety attacked her.  Before she could take a breath, the sharp twangs of panic pains raided her chest knocking the air straight from her lungs.  With the moisture disappearing from her mouth, her throat seemed to grow large lumps of steel that obstructed her airways making it harder to breathe.  Morbid thoughts raced through her mind now as she tried desperately to remember something that could be clue to how she got here.

         Forcing herself to remain calm, she inhaled deeply several times until she was certain that her heart finally obeyed her wishes to slow down.  Recalling a particular therapy session she had once had, she continued to breathe steadily and tried to turn her thoughts to a more positive direction.  Her therapist graced her with coping skills that she appreciated, and at the time though unhelpful.  Now she wished more then ever to be sitting with her therapist thanking her for the knowledge she bestowed upon her.  Noting the severity of the situation, however, it would not hurt to try some of these methods to calm down, as it was vital to keep her wits about her.  Gathering her composure, she began to move her hands over the foundation of the room.  Exploring the pieces of floor nearest her, she determined it was made of stone.  Cold and uneven, she guessed, possibly cobblestone; something like granite blocks.  Maybe. 

         Inching her way across the poorly lain rock, she decided to move toward the only light source around.  What could have been as quick as a minute or two felt like several hours for her to reach the door.  Hunger began to make its ugly presence known when low rumbles piped up from the pit of her nauseated stomach.  Swallowing hard, she turned back to the door and began inspecting it.  To the touch, the door was so bitter cold it burned the tips of her tender fingers.  A massive steel door towered before her.  This mass of assured imprisonment, fitting so well to the frame, left her unable to detect any other spots of light around the edges of the door.  The tiny shard of soft golden tone that shone through from under the large menacing barrier was now all she could focus on.  Her only goal now was to find a way out.  A way to survive. 

         Repositioning herself on the floor, she leaned back against the wall and ever so gently let her head rest against it.  It too had a frosty air about it.  Again, the wall, like the floor beneath her, was made of something frigid.  Only this time, she believed the walls, strong and unyielding, were built from some form of metal.  Much like the door, her belief, and best guess in her current state, could only be steel. 

         Tucking her knees to her chest, she carefully allowed her broken head to rest atop them.  Shivering and fear struck, screaming silently to herself, she allowed nothing more then a few audible squeaks to escape her terror filled body.  Muscles began to tense up and the sensation of twigs snapping filled her mind.  She was going to crack and loose her mind before she was even able to figure out what happened to herself.  No!  She would not allow it.  Sniffling, she brought her hand to her face and used her sleeve to clear the tears from her flushed cheeks and swollen eyes. 

         Before she could take another breath or think another thought, she heard it.

         “Marissa.” a voice whispered.  The sound was so quiet she believed she was hearing things.  Surely, it came from under the door she sat by.  It seeped in like a tiny fragment of a lost and lonely breeze from abroad that had come to find her.  “Marissa.” the voice repeated, just the slightest bit louder this time.

         “Who’s there?” she called into the darkness.

         “Shhhh. They’ll hear you. Then they’ll come.  You want to be very quiet. If you’re super quiet for a long time, sometimes they forget you’re here.” The voice answered back.

         “Who are you?  Where am I?”  Marissa began to question with heightened anxiety and odd excitement.

         “SHHH! I said.  You MUST be quiet.” and with this reply, Marissa could hear a faint rustle from the opposite corner of the room.  Was there someone else there with her?  If she was not alone, how did she know this other being wasn’t her attacker? 

         “Please.” Marissa began.  “Please tell me what happened to me.” She repeated the ‘please’ and continued in a softer whisper.  She spoke only loud enough to assure her voice would carry to the opposite corner of the room.

         “I don’t know what happened to you, Marissa.  I can only tell you to remain very still and silent as long as you can.”

         “I don’t understand!” Marissa replied with great disgust.

         “I’m here, same as you I bet.  I was whopped up the back of the head, beaten around a bit and the next thing I know is I’m in this cell here.” the voice became very sullen.

         “At least tell me how you know my name.” as much as Marissa was trying to be nice, she could not keep the authoritative tone from her voice.

         “Simple.  I heard the men talking about bringin’ in someone new tonight.  They said your name a couple times so I figured I should remember it for when you came.” the voice answered meekly.

         “Oh, I see.” Marissa answered with a sigh.  “And what would be your name?” she ordered quietly.

         “My name is Ruth but most people call me Ruthie.”