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Missing
Mar. 3rd, 2007 | 08:46 am
She'd almost given up on her life when she saw her chance and took it. An open basement window, the curtains pulled back, allowed daylight to filter in, lighting up her corner, where she'd been kneeling and nursing her mangled arm. Coming out of the haze that seemed the only thing able to let her continue living, her swollen eyes looked to the opening before the sharp sting of the light caused her to look away. How long had it been since she'd experienced real sunlight? A year? Two years?
It was too good to be true. Her captors were usually so careful with precautions. Locking doors behind them, cleaning up after every torture session, keeping her bound and gagged the majority of the time... She realized that all of these usual rituals had been ignored. She was perhaps as close to freedom as she'd ever been in her life. But surely the window was still locked.
Standing slowly on legs that could barely support her skeletal frame, she wobbled much like a child taking their first steps. She was unsure of her strength, it seemed as though every reserve within herself had long been exhausted. Physically, emotionally and spiritually she was drained. She felt rather like an empty shell. Ambling to stand under the window, she paused to rest against the wall and regain some of her breath. Of course the window was too high to reach and she'd almost wished she hadn't even got up to check as every nerve in her body seemed to scream and twist in pain inside her.
Her eyes scanned the barren room and she almost couldn't believe it when she saw a wooden crate nearby. The room was almost always empty. She cautiously approached the crate, wondering if she could even move such a thing. Gingerly, she gave it a shove, entirely expecting it to be too heavy but to her surprise, it slid across the cement floor with ease and with some effort, she was able to move it until it was sitting under the window.
She felt no sense of triumph or happiness. Only fear. Surely it was set up for her. Some new game, perhaps, some way to bring up her hopes again. She didn't have a hope anymore but she did have survival instinct. If she escaped, well, she'd be free. But just as easily, her captors could burst into the room and drag her back into the clawing, musty darkness she'd come to know so well.
Hoisting herself up onto the crate, she reached up and pressed her hands to the window. It slid open easily and she drew her hands back, gasping. It was too much. Too easy. But she would go for it. She pulled herself up, wriggling through the opening of the window and found herself sprawled out on her stomach on the ground, cool and damp from rain. It was raining.
She stood up, slowly, breathing in the smell of the outside. It seemed unlikely that she could run so she settled for limping along. The area was heavily wooded and she slipped through the slender tree trunks, gripping them for balance. She nearly fell several times but she continued to move, praying that eventually the trees would thin out and she'd find herself back in the civilized world.
It was too good to be true. Her captors were usually so careful with precautions. Locking doors behind them, cleaning up after every torture session, keeping her bound and gagged the majority of the time... She realized that all of these usual rituals had been ignored. She was perhaps as close to freedom as she'd ever been in her life. But surely the window was still locked.
Standing slowly on legs that could barely support her skeletal frame, she wobbled much like a child taking their first steps. She was unsure of her strength, it seemed as though every reserve within herself had long been exhausted. Physically, emotionally and spiritually she was drained. She felt rather like an empty shell. Ambling to stand under the window, she paused to rest against the wall and regain some of her breath. Of course the window was too high to reach and she'd almost wished she hadn't even got up to check as every nerve in her body seemed to scream and twist in pain inside her.
Her eyes scanned the barren room and she almost couldn't believe it when she saw a wooden crate nearby. The room was almost always empty. She cautiously approached the crate, wondering if she could even move such a thing. Gingerly, she gave it a shove, entirely expecting it to be too heavy but to her surprise, it slid across the cement floor with ease and with some effort, she was able to move it until it was sitting under the window.
She felt no sense of triumph or happiness. Only fear. Surely it was set up for her. Some new game, perhaps, some way to bring up her hopes again. She didn't have a hope anymore but she did have survival instinct. If she escaped, well, she'd be free. But just as easily, her captors could burst into the room and drag her back into the clawing, musty darkness she'd come to know so well.
Hoisting herself up onto the crate, she reached up and pressed her hands to the window. It slid open easily and she drew her hands back, gasping. It was too much. Too easy. But she would go for it. She pulled herself up, wriggling through the opening of the window and found herself sprawled out on her stomach on the ground, cool and damp from rain. It was raining.
She stood up, slowly, breathing in the smell of the outside. It seemed unlikely that she could run so she settled for limping along. The area was heavily wooded and she slipped through the slender tree trunks, gripping them for balance. She nearly fell several times but she continued to move, praying that eventually the trees would thin out and she'd find herself back in the civilized world.