ARIA

I crack an eye open and find myself staring at a ceiling made of wooden panels.

Before I even look around, I try to think back to what I last remember. Nothing comes to mind. I focus hard enough to the point where my brain hurts, but still, nothing.

Where the hell am I? My last memory is of leaving my uncle's house, determined to get away from anyone I could hurt.

I try to sit up and a pained sound escapes my lips, filling the room all around me. It doesn't help when I realize that I'm ...