Bloody hell!

The world is a watercolor spill of bleeding oranges and reds. It reminds me of groggy balmy afternoons in the backseat of our Ford, eyes closed, distant soft chatter, sun in my eyes, cheek burning on the hot window. Except, my eyes are open and my lashes are brushing on cheap cloth. My back aches on gritty concrete. Am I being kidnapped? Sold? Killed? I need to breathe. I let gulps of dusty cool air fill my burning insides. A timid set of thuds surround me till I feel hot breath and something soft and wet under my right eye, viscous liquid spills down my face. I can feel my insides madly battling the air, begging to leave in screams. I begin to thrash against soft binds. Breathe. I can smell the manure, faint copper, and dead grass. I still, as if it would help me smell better, escape better; that's when I smell the faraway scent of overripe cherries and old cigarettes. It was Marilynn's signature scent. She was a sweet nurse far younger than Dad who had just married him three weeks ago- though I wasn't close enough to call her mom, a pact of respect silently stood between us. The memory of her sets off a technicolor hit of dizzy recollections; the Ford, a needle, a quiet moon, shouts, cold fingers on my wrist, and Marilynn wrapping rope on my ankles. As the current situation sinks in, shock, confusion, and horror swims in my head. What the hell are Marilynn's intentions? Where is Dad? Was I wrong about her? Was I about to die? My panicked flurry is interrupted by a needle's prick at my inner elbow. I try to scream, to kick, to flip out in protest- but I'm frozen. Familiar cold fingers slowly untie my blindfold, and the previous orangey-red blur turns into the blinding white sun framed by a barns door. At the center of the light is Marilynn. I can barely recognize her, there is worry painting her face and desperation gripping the corners of her eyes. This was not the face of a criminal. Guilt begins to pool at my belly, perhaps the memories were delusions, perhaps I had misjudged her far too quickly. "Baby, I'm so sorry", her eyes shift downwards. I need to move, to do something, say something, but I stand as a spectator in a body that now feels barely my own. "You're just so perfect, I need you", a heavy breath leaves her mouth, and there's an erratic wildness to her movements. Her eyes dart to the cows who roam in the periphery- absolutely oblivious to my world falling in total disarray. "They- the cows aren't enough, I need your sweetness, your soul. You know... I married Steven just for you." My mind is beginning to fog, was it the confusion or maybe the needle? Marilynn slowly brings up two fingers to the side of my neck, and a whisper escapes her, "Your sweet blood". The previous guilt has been replaced with horror, what nightmare had I arrived in? "I don't want to do this, but you don't want me to die, do you honey, I need you!" The edges of the light are going black, and she throws something to the right of me. She's holding a bottle of mouthwash-she swigs from it violently, "Trust me, it doesn't get any easier every week, I don't want to do this." The world is black. I'm too weak to feel anything. The screams in my throat have died. Hot air spills on the right of my neck, "You won't remember this baby, I'll patch you up perfectly", Marilynn whispers, as if to convince herself. With the piercing puncture of teeth into my flesh, and the assaulting smell of metal- my senses disappear. I'm gone.