Night visitor continued

Thankyou for all the reviews I got on the begginning! I was really stuck on how to continue as it was one of those things that I just started writing without knowing where it was going. I came up with a whole plan for a story I had had in mind for a while (its quite long though) and this is the next part of the story. Sorry if it dosen't make too much sense at first (all will be explained in future) Any suggestions on improving would be much appreciated!

“Got you.”

*

Water.

Her throat was sandpaper, each rasping breath brought pain. Her eyelids were heavy, so very heavy. She could not peel them open no matter how hard she tried.

There was a noise, somewhere near. It sent pain zigzagging through her head and down her body. A voice?

She could hear nothing distinctly, she just couldn’t focus. Each particle of her body screamed for attention.

Water.

Her need to drink was overwhelming.

She tried to push her lips together, to form some sort of sound, but nothing came out.

The noise stopped.

Holly squeaked, as close to a scream as she could manage. Her head burned. Something was lifting her; pulling her upwards into a sitting position that her body resisted- her muscles straining and her bones creaking.

Sit up, come on, you’ll be fine in a minute.

What was that? A thought? No sound touched her ears, but the words clearly sounded inside her head.

She felt something lightly push against her lips. Liquid slowly crept into her mouth, over her swollen tongue and down her throbbing throat.

Ah! Sweet, sweet water.

It felt so unfamiliar to her, so alien to her parched state. Her consciousness leapt upon the single sensation and craved its flood.

More, More.

Every last drop was drank, but her body longed for further, her thirst only teased and nowhere near quenched.

After several agonising seconds, water surged into her once more. She could feel its passage as it moved through her organs, running to every cell within her that sucked the fluid up greedily.

The flow continued until she could hold no more, till she could feel the swish and slosh of it inside her and felt heavy from its weight. A satisfied feeling radiated from within and she found that her body was partially in her control once more, the pain no longer so shattering.

She allowed herself a few blissful moments before attempting to enter reality once more.

If I could just…

Cracking open one eye a hazy light swamped her. After a few seconds of adjustment she drew back the other to gaze about her.

It was her room. She was lying on her bed, fully clothed, and the duvet beneath her. A soft light filtered through her half drawn curtains to spill across her face.

Images, or rather feelings, flashed before her. A shiver ran down her spine and a cold, sickly feeling spread from her stomach.

What had happened?

She could remember nothing after that voice, that awful voice, had whispered in her ear. She had been inches away from escape and then her memories fell away.

Her eye caught upon her bedside table: a half empty jug of water and a mug stood upon it.

That wasn't there before...

She quickly scanned the room again, but there was nothing out of place. Hadn’t she heard a voice before? Hadn’t somebody- or something- held the mug to her lips? Hadn’t they sat her up?

She angled her body, slowly to prevent further pain, so that her back was to the wall. There was no-one here- but they must have been not long ago.

Holly raised her arm gingerly, testing its mobility, when she felt her hand brush against something: a piece of paper lying beside her.

Her eyes gazed down at the white sheet.

Three words swam before her eyes… they danced on the page as her vision tried to focus.

“See you soon.”

The writing was slanted and messy as if it had been scrawled fast, black ink spattered the corner of the page.

She felt a jab of fear. What was going on?

Holly closed her eyes; she didn’t understand. Logic just would not fit as much as she squeezed and pressed it into place. It was no use.

Think. Think. Should I ring the police?

Would they believe her? She could imagine herself speaking into the receiver:

“Yes, I was attacked. No I can’t give a description, it was dark. No nothings taken, they just put me to bed- waiting until I woke up to give me some water of course- then left.”

Even in her mind it sounded unreal, some nightmare or drunken illusion that she had taken for reality.

Could I call my Dad?

Her father was away, he wouldn’t get back until Thursday, and that was not for another five days. Could she really call him up when he was on his holiday and ask him to come home? He would of course, he’d book the next flight back to England without a moments hesitation, but she would rather suffer in silence than get her dad to leave his one week of relaxation since, well, forever.

She could ask Rosa or Charlie to stay at her house for a few days until her dad returned. They wouldn’t mind, but then how would she explain to them what had happened? They were good friends, they’d listen to her patiently and try to understand, but she could imagine the raised eyebrows and the carefully phrased queries that would follow. They’d tiptoe round her all week.

Mentally she shook herself. Ridiculous. She was acting stupidly, she didn’t need anyone to hold her hand. She was fine. She couldn’t explain what had occurred the previous night, so really it was just best to put it out of her mind; sweep it away to a dusty corner and forget about it.

Her decision made, Holly started the painful process of leaving her bed to run herself a bath.

She edged forwards till her ankles dangled off the side then gradually shifted her weight. Puffing slightly, she lowered her body to meet the ground and tilted herself into a standing position.

Her feet flinched from the cold wooden flooring and her legs wobbled slightly.

Not too bad.

Holly clutched the wall for support as she fumbled her way across her room and down the hall to the bathroom.

Catching a glimpse of her reflection, she stopped. She stared, confused. The strange girl opposite looked back at her, shocked.

Pale, drawn, almost ghostlike. She did not look well, perhaps that was it- a fever, she’d been ill and had imagined the whole event. But the note…

Forget it.

As she went to turn her head away from the mirror, her eyes locked on the front of her hair on the right side. She raised her hand to feel where her shoulder length brown locks had been hewn off- a significant chunk that had framed her face was clearly missing.

*

“Well?” His voice was harsh and impatience was clear in his tone - a peculiar contrast to his round, almost angelic face.

He glared, eyebrows pulled low over his deep chocolate eyes and shook his blond curls agitatedly. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

Zahra stood studying the small bundle of hair in her hand, one pale arm resting lightly on her jutting hip. She smiled, her skin pulling tight over the protruding bones of her cheeks.

“Patience Filo. You don’t really believe a mere glance can tell me what we need to know?” Her voice was melodic, the tone of a kind nursery teacher beloved by her students.

He huffed and crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “How long will it take then?”

Zahra deliberated, turning the parcel over in her palm with long sharpened nails. “A few days I should say- it’ll take some time to be sure.”

Filo growled and turned angrily from the skeletal woman. “I hate waiting.” He muttered beneath his breath, loud enough for his companion to hear.

“And you believe I don’t? I’m just as keen as you to find answers, so don’t pretend otherwise.”

Zahra’s tone had an edge to it that Filo was not ignorant to; despite her tranquil nature, she was not someone to be taken lightly.

He looked up apologetically. “I’m sorry. Its just, you know, I hate not being able to do anything. That job last night was the first action I’ve had in weeks- and she didn’t even put up much of a fight.” He paused, thinking back to the scuffle. “Pretty though, she’d make a nice host.”

Zahra laughed, a tinkling, musical sound. “I’m afraid that’s not quite how it works.”

Filo sighed. “Pity.” He turned to leave then halted, “who’s watching her until we know the results?”

“Joseph, why?”

He shrugged nonchalantly in answer as he walked away. Zahra looked after him as he left, a thoughtful frown puckering her parchment skin.

Thanks for reading sorry its so long