Hundred Twenty one

Melody awoke with the most unwelcome deja vu. The particular heavy and slow feeling of waking up after having been knocked unconscious. Judging by the rhythmic pounding and pain radiating from the back of her head, it had been physical this time instead of chemical. She didn't know if that was better or worse, she still felt sick and nauseated, and the headache was worse, but her body didn't feel as clumsy.

The overwhelming wrong feeling had diminished, but things were certainly not right. But at least she was able to think now. She looked around, lovely another cement room from floor to ceiling, a single caged in bulb in the ceiling for light, and a clean, if uncomfortable pallet underneath her. Things smelled clean, which at least wasn't offensive and an improvement on the first kidnapping. Melody wasn't scared this time, she was boiling under the surface like a secret lake of lava.

Yup, she had been kidnapped again. Ansley! Where was her daughter? Who had taken her. Melody knew she