Entry One

I opened my eyes slowly. Why was I so groggy? What happened last night? Gradually the world around me came into focus, and I gasped. I was in a hotel, or maybe a motel. I....I had attended a concert last night. Was it last night? How long had I been sleeping? And why was I fully dressed? Come to think of it, where were my friends? I was alone. I sat up, slowly, and the world swam. “Uuggh!” I snapped my eyes shut again and rubbed them fiercely. After a moment, the dizziness dissipated. I hadn’t been drinking, I knew that. We never drank at concerts; we always wanted the memories to be crystal clear. I tried opening my eyes again. This time the world was still. Good.

It was a shabby looking room, with only the barest of decorative touches, and a small flat screen mounted to the wall. There was an old-school land line phone on the bedside table. “Oh! My phone! My wallet, where are they?” A quick search of my person revealed they were secure in my pockets. (No bags at concerts, either.) “OK, credit cards, ID, bank card....phone’s about half charged...not the best, but it’ll do. But where the hell is Viola?” My dearest friend. Even when/if the group went our separate ways, she’d be by my side. “Viola? Are you here somewhere?” No answer. Check the phone. Messages and missed calls from Viola, but no one else. That wasn’t too strange, since I was supposed to be staying over with Vi and her fiancée. No one else had had time to miss me yet. I decided to try getting up. Slowly. The world still wanted to tilt at the edges. It was as if I’d gone to bed exhausted, slept too little. I’d done that more than enough to know how it felt. But I couldn’t even remember going to bed. Or the concert. Or leaving it. ”Pix, did I take pix?” Of course I had. I scrolled through hem, searching for any clues. NIN playing, Vi and my own overjoyed expressions, usual concert stuff. “VI! PLEASE tell me you’re here!” Still no answer. “Shit. What the the hell happened?” Feet on floor. Standing. OK, so I can walk. Great. “Remote, great. Maybe it’ll be playing the info channel.” I switched it on.

“Oh...what...the...fuck?” It was the info channel, all right, telling me all bout the motel’s “amenities”, only it was in Japanese. I almost dropped to the floor in shock, but caught myself on the edge of the bed. “Why...HOW am I in Japan?!?” Dark thoughts stampeded through my mind. Organ black market. Sex trade. White slavery. I suddenly needed the bathroom. “Oh please don’t have one of those weird Japanese toilets.” Thankfully, it didn’t. I washed my hands and face. Didn’t help much, but at least I felt a bit cleaner. Nothing was hurting, and there hadn’t been any sign of blood. I was dressed. So not organ harvesting, then. If I was intended for a new owner, I wasn’t sticking around to find out. I almost ran to the door, tried it. It was locked from my side. So I wasn’t being kept here, at least not against my will. “I should call someone...but I need to get out of here first. Whoever dumped me here could come back any time. I gotta go find help!”