Abigail is jolted awake by the sound of the metal door scraping against the floor as it opens. She silently chastised herself "What if they moved you. How could you fall asleep Abigail?" The reality of the situation was that the traumatic abduction, trying to stay awake and alert, the adrenaline that came and fizzled out and the withdrawal from not using Dust had all worn Abigail out.
Shuffling footsteps echoed throughout the stale room. Somewhere a switch was flipped and the clink and whirr of the tube light were heard as they started to flicker to life. The withdrawal heightened Abigail's senses. Her eyes felt like they were skewered into place with needles while simultaneously being scooped out with a large spoon. Her head pulsed with every movement as if it would crack open at any second and with each wave of pain, her heart would beat in her ears. All she could do was squeeze her eyes closed and breathe through the pain. The smell of her vomit, which had started fermenting by now, was all that she could smell and it attracted flies and gnats. She could barely move and her body ached from being in the same position for far too long. Abigail was in the darkest pit of dispair. Even if she got a lifeline out of it, the withdrawal was debilitating and she could not function.
The shuffling grew louder the closer it got but all Abigail could do was try and block out the noise and light that was overwhelming her in her current state. Suddenly, the shuffling stopped and the light was blocked out. Abigail slowly opened her eyes and saw an elderly lady standing in front of her. "Oh deary.." The old woman said, her voice warm and high pitched due to her age. "My name is Margaret" she continued. Abigail's bloodshot eyes stared at the woman "Let's get you cleaned up, you look awful." Just then two men appeared and helped Abigail to her feet. One made sure that she would remain standing while the other took off her restraints.
Abigail's legs were stiff from sitting in the same position for hour on end. She managed to move her legs a bit but her feet were needles and pins. Every step she took, or tried taking, made her ankles wobble. The men got annoyed, but not because she was struggling to walk. It was the smell of her vomit that had gone rancid inside her bra and the overwhelming stench of her soiling herself.
The old woman shuffling forward at a steady place, despite her age. The men awkwardly followed, half holding Abi up, half dragging. The odd group finally walked through the heavy doors after a very long and agonizing thirty minutes. If anyone were to look at them, they would think that the elderly woman was a caring grandmother; who got two bouncers to help her carry her granddaughter after a night of partying. The reality of the situation was much more sinister.
'Markus, Lukas, take the staff elevator' the old woman said. She spoke with the authority of someone who was accustomed to giving orders. It was strange to Abigail since she seemed like a normal, sweet granny. Abigail you idiot, she thought. What would a endearing old grandmother be doing in a place like this with men like these, picking up a young woman that was in her state? She trusted the woman the moment she walked in because she reminder her of Mrs. Doubtfire, but the irony was not lost on her. She knew that trusting the old woman would be a dangerous mistake, and trusting her again, even more so.