This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,4

and my heart takes off like a hundred horses thundering away from me. “I won’t run.”

“Good. I want to clean you up and feed you. You’re mine to take care of for now.” He nods and then disappears.

I’m afraid he won’t come back but a few moments later, he drops something into my prison. A rope.

“Climb,” he instructs, voice cold and uncaring.

I shudder and wobble over to where it hangs before me. Sometimes in PE we climb ropes but not after having been starved for several days. The only reason I’m standing is because I’m running on pure adrenaline at this point. I reach for the thick rope and clutch it. It’s rough in my hands and a sad realization comes over me. I’ll never be able to climb this thing.

“Climb!”

I jump and reach higher on the rope. My attempt to hoist myself up ends up with me spinning wildly out of control, only managing to further nauseate my empty stomach. Dropping my feet to the dirt, I cry out. “I can’t! It’s too hard!”

“You have three minutes to get your ass up here or you’ll die down there. You’ll rot because you were too much of a fucking baby to climb up the damn rope. If you want to survive, Baylee, you’re going to have to fight for it. Fucking fight for it!”

Tears blur the horrible world around me but rage blooms inside of me. I grab hold of the rope and try again.

Over and over again.

Sometimes I get a few feet up only to fall and land on my butt on the cold, hard ground. Other times, I slide down the rope and not only rub the skin from my palms but the inside of my thighs as well. It seems like forever but he finally barks out words that send me once again plummeting to my hell.

“Time’s up. Nice knowing you, sweetheart. I thought you were stronger but clearly I overestimated your strength.”

The door slams down and the light is gone.

My hope—my light in the darkness is vanished.

With a wail of defeat, I curl up on the chilled floor and close my eyes. I hope death is easy on me. I hope he’s swift and steals me in my sleep. And I hope Mom finds me soon—wherever we end up on the other side.

Goodbye, world.

Goodbye, Baylee.

Aches. All over. Especially in my head and my belly. Groaning, I crack open my eyes.

Darkness.

Again.

How long was it since he closed me off this time?

Five minutes? Five hours? Five days?

I sit up and something touches my shoulder. A shriek escapes me before I realize it’s only the rope. It still hangs from the ceiling. My heart thuds to life as I wonder if without the pressure of his stupid time limit, maybe I could make it.

But I can barely pull my weakened body to a sitting position. How would I ever be able to climb that thing?

I have to, though.

I don’t want to die down here.

Standing on shaky legs, I clutch onto the rope. It takes several tries, but I soon figure out that if I twist the rope around my leg as I climb, I can keep myself from sliding back down. My biceps scream in pain and I suck in gasps of air as I slowly inch myself up. When I’m finally near the top, I push the ceiling expecting resistance. But it moves. It moves!

I’m so excited that I nearly lose my grip and crash back onto the dirty cement floor below. At this height, I’d surely break a leg or an arm. Falling is not an option.

I slide an arm through the gap. The room is no longer lit and is dark, but moonlight shines from somewhere which means a window is nearby. Windows mean freedom. With newfound determination, I manage to lift the slat up and get my elbow onto the wood floors around the hole. Now that escape is within reach, I’m no longer weak and I find the strength to get my other elbow up. When I get my knee onto the surface, I nearly cry out in joy.

Almost there.

Now that my eyes have adjusted, I see that I’m in a kitchen. I slowly drag my body out of the hole and across the floor. And once I’m completely out and there are a few feet separating me from the opening, I cry. Silent, all-body wracking sobs.

So close.

A door is nearby and I can escape.

Climbing to my feet, I attempt to keep the shaking