0
I think I'm dreaming.
1
The rain is pattering on the roof as I drift off to sleep on a silent lullaby. When I wake the air has fallen silent. It's so cold I don't feel my hands and feet. Am I alone? I can't tell.
4
It's usually too dark to see everything in the room, but today more light than usual is slipping through the plywood slats. Now I can't sleep.
5
I don't wake up.
6
Someone is cooking outside nearby, but I can't tell what. Maybe a family barbecue? I vomit.
Is it the 4th of July? I can't hear fireworks.
10
I've been sleeping for awhile. How many days have passed?
12
I think there's something in the food.
15
I haven't eaten in a few days, but I finally have enough energy to get up. The room is smaller than I thought.
15
It's locked from the outside.
16
I'm so dirty I don't think I'll ever get clean.
17
I try to eat my shoes but I'm too dry to swallow.
18
I try again. I notice I'm missing some teeth, and I hadn't felt it before.
19
They haven't been putting food under the door for awhile, but today the water stopped.
20
Am I still alive?
22
I can't open my eyes.
23
I hear guns and voices and shouting and then whispers. They say I'm in the hospital. My mother is there. She was able to pay the ransom, she says. She's so sorry, she says.
27
I still can't open my eyes because they're swollen, but I hear the news on the TV buzzing softly. I can't make out the words.
38
I'm recovering slowly, but my legs are working now. They say I might never be able to see again, but that's okay. At least I'm alive.
45
I finally get to go home. I feel warmer than I've ever felt.
23
I hear guns and voices. They argue about the money, then another shot. No one is talking.
Footsteps are coming closer. I try to move but my body is numb and heavy. The door opens and light sears my eyelids.
And then the last shot rings out above all else. It's louder than all my screams could ever be.
45
My body is found.
Points: 1040
Reviews: 11
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