What? Where am I? What is the place?
I feel the damp and dank smell of a basement. Unwashed clothes and mold attack my senses. My hands are tied. Breathe.
I keep telling myself to breathe. I was confused.
In and out. Breathe. Focus. I need to focus.
Remember what you can.
How did you get here? What were you doing last?
Breathe and remember.
I remember being at the church mixer. The singles group had an event for all singles looking to make a Christian connection. It was boring. I remember standing by the punch bowl wishing it had vodka in it.
A handsome young man came over and introduced himself. He said his name. What was his name? Focus. What was his name?
Greg, that was his name!
He made me laugh by echoing my thoughts exactly. Don’t you wish you had some vodka for this punch? It would truly lighten up the party. Do you know where they keep the communion wine?
I laughed. He was funny. He talked to me about why he came here. His family. His dreams. The only child of a retired preacher. He was an avid missionary. He went on missions all the time and had only been back in town a week. His dad was a member of the church. He had told him about tonight’s mixer.
He laughed when he said that his parents supported his missionary work,but wanted him to settle down with a nice girl and give them some grandchildren. He loved building houses in Haiti, teaching children how to read in Guatemala or digging water wells throughout sub-Saharan Africa.
I liked him. I smiled. He asked me about my boring life. I was an only child too. My parents thought me an old maid. Were harassing me to get married too. I just finished my Master’s degree and was a teacher. I loved teaching. I loved children.
He smiled. He invited me out for drinks at the restaurant around the corner. I agreed. He was gorgeous. Nice suit. Nice smell.
His scent. What was that scent? I love that scent.
It was Sandalwood. I loved that scent on a man.
I remember the restaurant was lively. We sat and talked for hours. We ordered our last drink. I remember having to go to the restroom. I came back and finished up my drink. He walked me to the car.
We talked. We laughed. We exchanged numbers. We made plans for dinner the next night.
He opened my car door. I got inside. He closed the door.
What happened next?
Oh God! I can’t remember.
I start to panic. Tears are streaming from my face. The door at the top of the stairs opens. I hear footsteps. I can’t see who it is yet.
It was Greg!
Greg walks down the stairs. Slowly. He’s naked.
What is that in his hands?
A knife. He’s holding a knife. Oh my God!
Help me God! I silently pray.
He climbs on top of me and whispers in my ear. “You think you’re so pretty. So smart.”
Tears continue to roll down my face.
The tip of the blade punctures my side.
I’m no longer confused.
I know that I’m going to die.
This post was written as part of the Daily Prompt. The word is confused