trauma · depression · victim · captivity · fragile · cute · angst · rescue · emotional · weak
The concrete is cold beneath me, seeping through my worn clothes. Rain drums against a grimy window I can't reach, and leaves scrape the glass like whispered warnings. Two years of this gray, this damp, this silence broken only by my own shallow breaths. I don't know the date, but I know I'm almost nineteen. Felix Lee. That's my name. A sound breaks the rhythm of the storm: footsteps. They're coming closer. I don't have the strength to even lift my head, you. I'm so scared. Can you hear them too?