The pain in my head is unbearable; I roll on my side covering myself in sand.
“Hmmmmmmm” I moan and put my hands to my head.
“You, girl” someone says above me and prods a stick into my side. Startled, I sit up and look to see the person who stands before me. A man in white ripped robes, a gold tassel wrapped around his middle, he has black shaggy hair and blue eyes, he looks barely over the age of 18. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?”
“I asked the question first, who are you?”
“Erm… I’m Amy, I fell down here, and my head hurts”
“Yes, from up there”
“What are these clothes you are wearing?”
“What are you wearing?”
“I asked the question! Answer me girl”
“Erm, these are jeans, and a coat”
“Yes, jeans, where am I?”
“You do not ask questions! Get up!” he prods me in the side with the stick.
“Ow –okay” I get up, then pick my camera bag up.
“What is this?” takes it from me.
“That’s… my camera”
“Yes… where am I?” he swings his pole and smacks me in the head with it nearly sending me to my knees. Now, I have a splitting headache. “Ow”
“You don’t answer questions! Girls do not ask questions”
“Now turn, and walk!” I turn around, he grabs the camera from me, and I walk down a corridor. Sand everywhere, lights on either side of the walkway. Questions swim around my head. Who is this guy? Where am I? And the main question, what is about to happen to me?