She hated herself for going to the party. Hated herself for having to go to the bathroom. Mostly, she hated herself for not knowing how to react. The guy had grabbed her from behind, twisting her arms and knocking the air from her lungs with his fists. She would be taking a course in self-defence. If she ever found her way back.
She stared angrily at the dead trees behind her window. She couldn’t even climb down the high concrete walls. Her arms were tied behind her back. Even though her feet were free, she couldn’t possibly climb without her arms. It was useless. And she couldn’t scream. The scarf around her mouth prevented her from uttering even a single word.
© 2016
Friday Fictioneers, 8 April 2016
Photo prompt provided by J Hardy Carroll
Very descriptive.
@Samantha/samratkel from
Shadow Realities
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Thanks for reading!
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Chilling story.
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Thanks for reading!
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Even in terror she is ‘thinking’, and it rings of ‘never give up’. There is still some hope!
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She’ll find a way. I’m sure of it. Even if it means jumping down off the wall and breaking her ankles, her will to survive is stronger than the thought that she might get hurt. Hey, I should turn this into a novel! 😉
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I think you could! 🙂
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That sounds scary. I hope she finds a way out.
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I hope so too!
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That feeling of terror and her desperation is captured really well. Nicely done.
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Thank you!
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Nicely, terrifyingly done.
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Thanks!
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Strong feminine voice of despair and hope. Very real depiction ….Disturbing and thought provoking…..
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Thank you for reading and commenting! I hope I haven’t left you too disturbed by her fate and situation…
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