The Final Fight

I don’t sleep well at all. I continue to fight against the rope, but all it does is cause me to scream as it pulls on my wrist. My neck is bleeding, so I spent my time leaning forward to remove some of the tension. Unfortunately, if I sit up straight, the spikes dig in deeper.

I hear him moving all day. He hasn’t given me a drink, nothing. I watch the clock, hours passing, and the more time that passes, the more I consider just standing, even if it rips my neck open and kills me. It will be a quicker death than they will give me.

Then, I look down at my stomach and feel like fighting. Fighting, though, won’t work. I can’t fight that many men. I can’t escape them all. I have no escape. If I survive today, we move. Then what? Depending on where it is, if I scream and make noise, people might care.

Here, no one does.

I hear the door and watch as he walks in with a knife. My body freezes. He’s going to kill me. I watch as he walks to me and kneels ahead o