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About the author:
Sara Kate began her writing career as a scriptwriter for promotional videos and college short films. Shortly after, she branched out into the journalism world where she covered events, pop culture, and opinion pieces for local magazines. Sara obtains an Associate degree in Video Production and a Bachelor's degree in Digital Filmmaking.
What inspired you to write your book?
I decided that I wanted to write about a strong young woman who has to fight for something. I am what they call a "pantser" in the writing world so I did not have this story in mind from the beginning. I came up with the main character, 19-year-old Jen Russo and her story came alive from there.
Here is a short sample from the book:
The White Room
I just opened my eyes to see a white ceiling in the distance above me. It’s so high up that I can’t see where it ends. I’m lying down on my back but I’m not sure on whose bed. It’s not mine, that I know for sure because this bed feels like it is a lot stiffer and smaller than my own.
I don’t know why I am laying down and I can’t remember arriving here… I can’t even recall what I was doing before this.
I am trying to lift my body to sit up, but my arms won’t move. I think I’m being restrained against the bed because I can’t move my body at all. I can only turn my head to the left and right, just enough to see that the walls around me are white, like the ceiling, but they also seem so far away that I can’t tell where the room ends.
“Hello?” I call out as loud as I can, but no one answers me.
A moment passes before I attempt to sit up but then I feel someone touch my left arm. “Woah!” I gasp and quickly turn my head over to the left, but I don’t see anyone.
But I felt a hand touch me just now… I know it.
I try to look down toward my arm, but I can’t see it.
Is my neck being restrained too?
It’s like I’m frozen to this bed or as if someone or something is holding me down, but I don’t feel any pressure on me. I did feel someone’s hand touch my arm though, I know that. But why can’t I see them? Where did they go?
Panic is starting to set in and I only panic if my instincts tell me that I am about to be in trouble. I have low anxiety, but I believe that is because I have good intuition. Whenever I feel like something is wrong, I’m usually right in some way and right now, I definitely feel like something is wrong because I’ve never felt so uncomfortable and confused in my life before.
I need to get the hell out of here, so that’s what I’m going to do.
Just as I am trying to break free from the bed again, I get startled when I feel a hand touch my forehead. “AH! STOP!” I shriek but the hand stays on top of me.
I don’t like that I can feel someone… but I can’t see them.
“STOP!” I cry out again, but the hand is starting to massage my scalp and it’s making me more and more uncomfortable. “Stop! I don’t like this!” I’m practically pleading. “STOP! STOP TOUCHING ME!” I keep begging, but I don’t think the person can hear me because now I feel fingers going through the roots of my hair.
Either they can’t hear me, or they are purposely not listening to me and if that’s the case, then that’s starting to freak me out even more.
“STOP! STOP IT!”
There is another pair of hands gripping around the bicep of my right arm while the fingers are still running through my hair now.
I’ve never felt so violated and helpless before in my life. Why won’t they stop touching me and why can’t I see them?
My right arm is being lifted in the air now and I’m trying to resist but it’s not working. I can’t pull it away from the person’s grip. They won’t let go of me no matter how hard I try to pull my arm away.
“STOP! STOP! I DON’T LIKE THIS! GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”
No one is listening to me which is not only freaking me out even more but it’s also starting to tremendously aggravate me. I absolutely hate when no one listens to me.
Fingertips continue to run through my scalp and down the strands of my forehead bangs. It feels like these people are antagonizing me on purpose.
I’m trying to struggle away but it’s doing no good. “PLEASE! STOP! STOP TOUCHING ME!” I’m demanding through sobs and even though, I know that I’m crying, I don’t feel any tears on my cheeks. I just feel these random hands on me.
My chest is starting to feel heavy, like someone is sitting on top of it. It sort of feels like I’m on the edge of a panic attack and that’s not good at all. I’ve only ever had minor panic attacks, and this is how I can recall them starting. I know this isn’t a time for me to panic but damn, it’s difficult not to do so.
“PLEASE! STOP!” I yell out but still, no one is listening.
I’ve never felt like I have been tortured or tormented in any way before, but now I feel like I am, and I can’t stand it. My mind is telling my body to fight and get myself out of here… but how do I do that when I’m stuck like this?
Finally, the hands left my hair, and my arm isn’t lifted in the air anymore either. I need to close my eyes and control my breathing. If I can’t feel my body and I can’t see anything, I must be dreaming… or should I call it, a really fucked up nightmare. Now, all I have to do is figure out how to wake myself up from it.