Fly With Me

She cringed, closing her eyes when the memory of sitting in her own vomit and waste unable to cry another tear returned to her head. When her name was called, it was almost a miracle. "Peyton Brookes?"

She looked up, a small smile tugging on her lips. 

small room. She was ready.

She picked herself up, forcing each step into the room. She bit down on her lip, taking a seat on the chair. She sighed, nodding to herself. You can do this. You did this. It's nothing you can't get through. The needle was injected into her neck, and then it begun. 

Darkness. Peyton blinked a few times, fear fueling itself inside her body. She sat there for a few seconds, her breaths getting heavy. Footsteps. Her eyes shut themselves, and her breaths quickened. She felt around the surface, trying to figure out where exactly she was trapped. It wasn't long until all the familiarity came to her. The cold floor burned her skin. She got on her feet, taking small steps forward. The footsteps came to a halt, and what must be the doorknob rattled. The door opened not long after. It was sudden, the harsh hands on her. Her legs lost balance, the hands on her the only thing keeping her up. She shook her head, struggling, her kicks and screams at this point getting louder and harsher. "No -- no, no.. no.." Her back was slammed against the wall. She could see nothing, see no one, feel nothing but the cold air around her and the fear that caused her screams and cries for help. The man never spoke. She'd forgotten what another human voice sounded like. It wasn't until struggling was more painful than staying still that she remembered; this isn't real. Her breaths steadied, the pain faded, and her knee shot up, hitting flesh or bone, she couldn't tell. She pushed the man off her, running towards the door he'd come through. She twisted the knob, pulling the door open. 

And she was back.