Escape
Today is just a day, same as all the rest.
I rolled out of bed, my belly is so big I feel like a turtle sometimes. Stranded on my back, rocking from side to side, trying to right myself. I make a mark on the wall for every day that passes. The only thing I can count on in this life, I am forced to live. Is that the sun will come up in the morning and will set at night. Two hundred and forty five days. That is how many days have passed since I have felt the sun on my face or took a breath of fresh air. Two hundred and forty five days of living this nightmare. I have cried all the tears I can. There are no more left. All that is left is action.