Slowly but surely it was coming loose, pulling at the small hair at her temples. She could open one eye now part way even though the tape made it painful.And she could see her surroundings. It was a depressing sight, a small room with wood nailed over the broken window, glass sparkling on the cracked linoleum floor. The chair she was in was the only furniture in the room. There was a door that was shut and another that was opened that looked as if it led into another part of the house.Now that she could partially see, she started working at the tape that bound her arms to the chair, yanking and pulling, rubbing it against the splintered arm, trying to pull some slack into it so that maybe she could pull her arm out from under it. The adhesive was strong, and she felt blood start to flow as it tore bits of her skin off of her flesh.Whimpers of pain came from her mouth, the only sound she would allow. She didn't know if her kidnappers were outside or in the next room or gone all. It was late spring and my family were visiting hers. We are the each the oldest of our siblings. My siblings and hers were playing a game together in Maria's bedroom, it involved something like putting a blanket over your head and whispering a secret message to someone else in the group. The details of the game aren't important apart from that Maria and I were frequently seeing each other close under the blankets. Each time we stood closer and closer to one another and on the fourth time our lips touched and we imagined ourselves in a grown up love story, rather than 13 year-olds. We kissed more and more lengthily on every occasion, growing with confidence and skill. The game drew to a close and our siblings went downstairs. With them gone, we enclosed each other in a passionate embrace our young tongues entwining, and our hands exploring the others' body. We undressed slowly, my hands gliding over her round tits, her hand stroking me in my boxers. As young and reasonably naïve teens.
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