Camila
My stomach cramped as my world grew into consciousness. Slowly, the world around me infiltrated the inky fog surrounding my brain. I was moving, not me physically, my body was moving. I was in a vehicle.
When I tried to move, something sharp bit into my wrists as the putrid odor of smoke and perspiration filled my senses. My ankles too were restrained.
The sound of my heart thumped in my ears as I worked to control my breathing.
Wherever I was, I wasn't alone.
A quick blink of my eyes gave me a snapshot of my surroundings. I was still wearing the same capri pants and blouse I'd worn to the museum.
The museum.
I'd been eating lunch with my family.
Gritting my teeth, I recalled the stinging sensation in my neck.
The terror built around me, consuming me with the reality
