Pain is an Underestimate

One word: pain. Actually, pain doesn't even cover it. Pain in an underestimate. My arm felt like it had been cooking over a fire, and a deep pain ran across my midriff.  I managed a meager groan and tried to open my eyes; only everything remained pitch black. I tried to sit up, only my wrists were tied down to the table I was lying down on. I struggled for a moment, only to fail miserably and let my head collapse against the thin pillow. "Awake, I see?"    

The voice was so sudden it seemed as if butterflies had erupted from my stomach. A cold hand gently touched my shoulder, and I shook away from it the best a person who was strapped down could do. How could this person see in complete darkness? I swallowed hard as a needle pricked into my forearm, "Get away from me! Let me go!" I was screaming bloody murder and could feel multiple eyes burning into my soul. The voice was silent for a moment as the hand pulled the needle from my arm and dabbed my skin with a cloth. "Please, dear, stop with the yelling," I could now tell it was a woman, an elderly one who smelled of cranberries. Typical. I heard footsteps walk away from me along with the rolling of wheels, "I'll be back with some food," the lady stated quietly while the sound of a metal door opened. "Please, let me go," I swallowed hard, still struggling. The door slammed shut.