Setting

All I could see was inky darkness behind the dull grey adhesive of the duct tape. My heart was pounding the beat of a death metal drummer, my lungs operating at full speed as short panicky bursts are expelled while my slowly numbing body lies on the well-worn beige carpet of my sparse living room. I am trapped. I hear him shuffling around in the kitchen that is just a few short steps away from my ensnared body. A lighter strikes the flint as he lights a cigarette that spews pungent puffs of smoke into the air. He is enjoying this. I can tell by the calmness of his breathing. This man, who smells of stale tobacco, who has invaded my personal life and taken me prisoner, is going to hurt me. It is inevitable, just like the young and pretty girls in the movies, he is going to rape and torture me. But no, it’s much worse. My attacker is a sadistic bastard. I feel the reverberation of his determined steps as he strides to my numb and quaking body. I catch a whiff of a semi-familiar scent. I can’t place it at first and then the memory is ripped out of the file bank of my mind, Hugo. Panic rips through me as I think to myself, “Oh no…please no, not again.”