Chapter Eight

Roxie's head felt like it was swimming. She felt woozy. When she opened her eyes, she noticed that it was hard for her to focus as the room was spinning. What was clear, however was the fact that she was no longer in her bed at home. She moved to sit up, it was a difficult task, but she managed. She moved to stand up. She was a little lightheaded, but was able to do it. She checked out her surroundings. The room was made up of a single twin sized bed. There were no windows, which made her think that it was a basement room of some kind. One large door sat in the room as the entry and exit point. There was a dresser, a nightstand. There was another doorway but it had no door, just hanging black beads that set it apart from the rest of the room. For the most part, the room was clean and organized, but for the life of her she couldn't really remember how she got there.

Come on, Roxie think. How did we get here? What was the last thing we remember? She chided herself. She decided to try t