Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
I know it’s impossible, but I have to try. I stretch on my tiptoes, trying desperately to even reach them. After a quick moment of failure, I take a step back and look at them. My body wouldn’t even fit through those small rectangles. I could try dragging the cage over and climbing on top of it. I look at the rectangles again. They’re so small. But I have to at least try. Even if it’s just to open the window and flag someone down. Or scream for help.
I watch the door the entire time that I try my damnedest to move the heavy cage. My shoulders ache and the bars dig into my fingers, but it’s useless.
I pull with all my weight, but it doesn’t even budge.
Breathless and feeling pathetic, I give up the stupid thought and my eyes focus on the bathroom. I hesitate to walk the distance of the room, but maybe there’s a way out. A larger window perhaps. The windows are close enough that if I heard the click or the beep, I could easily run back to the cage and make it safely inside before he could catch me.
The bathroom is too far. I’d never manage to outrun him.
But if there’s an escape, or a weapon… I only glance at the door before my instincts take over.
As quickly as I can, I dart across the room, knowing I can’t fail. If he comes in now, he’d beat me to the cage. And caught in the bathroom, I’d be cornered. My heart slams with fear as I take in the barren bathroom. My bare feet slap against the cold tile as my heart pounds in my chest. My eyes dart from the steel pipe under the sink to the showerhead. Those are the only two things I can think of to even consider as a weapon. Even the toilet tank lid has been removed, and the mirror is gone, too.
I crouch under the sink and pull with all my weight on the steel pipe, but my grip slips and I fall backward, my head slamming against the tile.
“Fuck!” I shout, grabbing onto the back of my head and wincing with pain.
Click. I swear I hear a click, and I move as fast as possible. My legs scream with pain as I sprint from the bathroom to the cage. My toenail scrapes against the concrete as I nearly trip, but I keep running. I don’t stop. I ignore the pain and keep my eyes on the opening to the cage. To my safety.
I slam my body against the back of the cage and breathe heavily, staring at the closed door.
All I can hear is the blood rushing into my ears and my heart beating uncontrollably with fear.
But nothing happens.
My chest heaves, and I try to calm myself as I wait with panicked breath.
Did I imagine it? I pull my legs to my chest and stare at the door.
A long time passes, and I finally realize I let the fear get the best of me.
He’s not coming in here. At least not in this moment. My eyes drift back to the bathroom and the tiny windows. They’re both dead ends. No weapons, no escape.
I stare at the door and wonder when he’ll be back, and what he’s going to do when he does return.
He said he won’t come into this cage, so that’s fine.
I’ll just stay here, but something has to happen eventually. Something has to change. I can’t be stuck here forever. The reality hits me hard all of a sudden. I can. This could be my life now.
In the back of my mind, I remember the bag of heroin. Hidden inside my bra. Waiting for me.
I need to find a way out of here, or else I don’t have many options. Tears threaten to show themselves, and the burning pain of unshed tears is all too familiar to me.
It’s been too long since I’ve cried. I won’t cry for this man. I won’t cry for me when I failed at saving myself.
There’s no one for me to blame but myself.
With the dark thoughts consuming me, I fall asleep against the cage, my eyes on the food that I refuse to eat.
The days pass in a blur until I have no idea how long I've been here, and each day is the same. He comes in with a tray, taking the old one that sits at the front of my cage with untouched food. I don’t even drink the water.
My mouth is dry, and my throat burns. A few times I went to the bathroom to drink from the tap, but the last few days have made me afraid to leave the cage.
During those first few days, I tested my confines. In the middle of the night, I would sneak out into the room and test everything. I went over every inch of the walls, every single corner, every single nook and freaking cranny. There was nothing.