<em>1. 'search' is only transitive when it applies to examination/investigation of something with a purpose of finding it, often under suspicious circumstances, ex., search the grounds for the missing body, search the criminal for concealed weapons -- Likewise, you can say 'I searched my pockets for...', since in this case you're looking for anything that could help you out of the desperate situation that you're in. </em><em>
</em>

<em>2. 'hush' is rarely used as a noun, when it is, it refers to a silence/stillness/calm - a great hush settled upon the... a hush fell over the battlefield...</em>

<em>3. 'tatty semblance' sounds weird, try to rephrase</em>

<em>4. as + if = like; 'like if'</em>

The Awakening

I roused up woke up woozy/I awoke feeling woozy, hearing rasping voices inside my head, like as if someone had hit me with a heavy hammer. I tried to rise from the floor using both hands, but I couldn't, I was weary. I decided then to analyze everything around me in an effort to understand or remember what the hell had happened last night.

I was surrounded by darkness, but miraculously I found a lighter just behind me. At first glance, I was in a tiny, narrow and austere room, it had only two wooden chairs, two ropes lying on the ground and....a pool of blood spilled on the floor! I felt anxious and frightened and I began to hyperventilate.

"Help!!! Help!!"- I uttered, but anyone replied me nobody replied.

I had to go away from there as soon as possible, but my legs failed in my second attempt to get up. I made an effort to calm myself and I took a look in my pockets/looked in my pockets, searching for [1]a mobile phone, a wallet or even a any simple clue to help me remember. I found nothing. I was shabby and unkempt, probably I had probably been locked up there for a few days, maybe a few weeks/by the looks of it, I had been locked up for days, maybe weeks. I racked my brain trying to grasp what was going on, first asking myself loudly the most basic questions and answering them one by one, in a sluggish manner, like assuring me in an effort to assure myself that I hadn't didn't have brain damage:

"Who am I? I'm Farold Moss, I'm 25 and I live in New York City.
"What do I do for living? I study philosophy in at Columbia University.
"Where am I?" ...... (Silence)
"Why am I here? How I arrived here did I get/arrive here? What happened last night? Am I in danger? .... (more hush silence). [2]

I finally got up and headed for the door. Surprisingly, it was open and I  could was able to exit (from) that hellish room. The sunlight blinded me for a moment, but as soon as I recovered my eyesight, I immediatly recognized the place where I was. I was in The Bronx and I had been so many times eating in the italian restaurant that was just in front of me the Italian restaurant where I had eaten before, so many times. I looked back and I saw for the last time the hide-out hiding place where I had been kidnapped brought to for some inscrutable reason that I couldn't comprehend.

I started to run as quickly as possible, feeling the fresh air stroking my cheeks and hearing my intense and rapid heartbeat. Everyone was looking at me, aghast by my tatty semblance [3]. I had my wore a shirt covered in blood, ripped jeans and my skin was black and grimy. But I didn't care, I just wanted to go home, eat something because I was starving and sleep for weeks too. I felt like as [4] if/I felt like I was living in a thriller movie, and I liked it. I don't know why, but I felt alive,. I felt exhausted too but my life would begin to be more exciting.

The awakening

I roused up woozy, hearing rasping voices inside my head, like if someone had hit me with a heavy hammer. I tried to rise from the floor using both hands, but I couldn't, I was weary. I decided then to analyze everything around me in an effort to understand or remember what the hell had happened last night.

I was surrounded by darkness, but miraculously I found a lighter just behind me. At first glance, I was in a tiny, narrow and austere room, it had only two wooden chairs, two ropes lying on the ground and....a pool of blood spilled on the floor! I felt anxious and frightened and I began to hyperventilate.

"Help!!! Help!!"- I bowled, but anyone replied me.

I had to go away from there as soon as possible, but my legs failed in my second attempt to get up. I made an effort to calm myself and I took a look in my pockets, searching a mobile phone, a wallet or even a simple clue to help me remember. I found nothing. I was shabby and unkempt, probably I had been locked up there for a few ways, maybe a few weeks. I racked my brain trying to grasp, first asking myself loudly the most basic questions and answering them one by one, in a sluggish manner, like assuring me that I hadn't brain damage:

"Who am I? I'm Farold Moss, I'm 25 and I live in New York City.
"What do I do for living? I study philosophy in Columbia University.
"Where am I?" ...... (Silence)
"Why am I here? How I arrived here? What happened last night? Am I in danger? .... (more hush).

I finally got up and headed for the door. Surprisingly, it was open and I could exit from that hellish room. Sunlight blinded me for a moment, but as soon as I recovered my eyesight, I immediatly recognized the place where I was. I was in The Bronx and I had been so many times eating in the italian restaurant that was just in front of me. I looked back and I saw for the last time the hide-out place where I had been kidnapped for some inscrutable reason that I couldn't comprehend.

I started to run as quickly as possible, feeling the fresh air stroking my cheeks and hearing my intense and rapid heartbeat. Everyone was looking at me, aghast by my tatty semblance. I had my shirt covered in blood, ripped jeans and my skin was black and grimy. But I didn't care, I just wanted to go home, eat something because I was starving and sleep for weeks too. I felt like if I was living in a thriller movie, and I liked it. I don't know why, but I felt alive, I felt exhausted too but my life would begin to be more exciting.