Forced Out - Part Two

I'm slowly roused from my uncomfortable sleep by a shrill buzzing nearby. My head pounds, my feet sting, and a dull ache permeates my every muscle. The air hangs heavy with the scent of vomit and liquor, the combination of the two and the same salty taste clinging to my dry mouth. My joints crackle as I slowly begin to writhe, groaning in discomfort and I feel the cold air against my partially exposed and raised behind. I can feel a strange pressure on my chest which only gets more unbearable as I absentmindedly begin to shuffle more of my body weight onto the cushion directly beneath me.

However, despite all the discomfort I can't help but feel strangely energized. Each and every ache and pain seems to diminish far faster than I was used to, or at least far faster than they had in years.

"Like...what the fuck..." I groan, freezing up as I hear my soft squeaky voice.

Forced Out - Part One

As the sound of my alarm reaches my ears I slowly begin to stir in my bed, writhing under the blanket as I try to fight the conflicting need to wake up and the desire to remain in bed. Groaning loudly I reach over to my phone, quickly turning it off as I slowly begin to sit up in the dim sunlight of the wee hours of the morning.

As I slowly begin to start the process of getting up I suddenly feel a shiver run down my spine, the sensation that someone was watching me creeping up on me. It was an insane thought, I lived alone in a rather small apartment so the thought that anyone was in here with me was absurd. However, as I stand up from my bed I can't help but shake the thought.