no question, I need to be brave, suck it up, and get on with it so I can get out of here. Taking in a much needed breath, I push myself to move back into position.
“They can’t hurt me, they can’t eat me, and as soon as I have the pole all I have to do is shake my leg and they’ll be gone,’’ I grumble to myself.
My foot touches the cold, metal pole again and this time I manage to bring it towards me some more, making the strain on using my toes relax a little. I work it closer, and closer, till finally I get up out of my position, shake off my legs before brushing everything off with my hands, not wanting to miss a crafty crawly. There’s bound to be one that sticks on through my shake. There always is.
Reaching down, I lean over and pick up the pole, hoping like hell I didn’t just waste my time and strength getting it. Already I want to fall back to sleep, the little I got last night was not nearly long enough. Plus, I was freezing cold, being held hostage by a rapist and murderer and betrayed by my own mother.
All in one day.
Using all my strength I tug at the chains again, hoping to see some kind of weak link, but there isn’t any. It’s tightly bolted to the wall and as much as I need a spanner or screwdriver right now, I’ve only got a metal pole.
Giving up trying to weaken the chain, I begin to use my last resort and smack the metal pole against the chains bolted on the wall. I try to aim for where it’s attached, but all it does it ricochet off the bolts, pain racing from my hand all the way up my arm from the harsh vibrations of the hit.
Not wanting to give up I try again and again. I try until my face is dripping with sweat, mixed in with tears and until all my strength is gone. Once all my energy is spent, I fall to my knees on the mattress facing the wall, shame and failure consuming me. I place a soothing hand on my stomach, silently telling my baby girl how much she means to me already and how much I love her father. He’s the one person apart from her that I’ve ever truly loved, and I never got to say those words to him. I never got to tell him how much he means to me and that the only reason he hurt me the way he did was because I always felt like it was me pursuing him, and not the other way around. Just for once I wanted him to come on to me. Now I’ll never get the chance. And if I did, I wouldn’t care who started what or who chased who, just as long as I got to have him and my baby girl in my arms.
I sob against the wall, creepy crawlies be damned. I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and someone, most likely Carl, is squeezing the life out of it. I don’t want to die. I want to see my daughter grow up. I want to see her be born safely, and healthy, but it seems like it’s not going to happen given the shitty circumstances.
I cry until my voice is hoarse and my sobs turn strangled, my chest heaving. Then car tires crunch from outside and I begin to panic. The only plan I have is to hurt him enough that I knock him unconscious and get his keys.
My main priority is to get the me and the baby safe, away from him and away from this building and the rancid smell of Hannah’s body.
In a robotic daze I grab the metal pole and drag it in front of me, gripping it in one hand so tightly my knuckles turn white. With my other hand I lean it against the dirty wall to steady myself for when I need to strike.
Blood rushes to my ears along with panic, not able to hear anything past the buzzing. Footsteps sound above, more shouting. He’s brought people with him. Will they help me? Will they help him? My mind is in overdrive and my panic turns into more sobs, tears clouding my vision. I can hear a voice shout my name from close behind, sounding frantic and panicked, or maybe