"The Fifth Day"

"Help me..." She whispered so quietly that not even she could hear herself.

The clock struck midnight, and its gong rang her ear drums, vibrating the inside of her head like a jack-hammer. The echo sent a chill through her body as it bounced off of every wall, lingering as long as it was able to, which drove her mad. Her wrists were torn and bloody; she could feel the liquid oozing out of the wounds she had caused from trying to unbound herself. But still, she kept trying, even if she failed every time. Her ankles were numb and limp, and she could no longer feel any blood coursing through those veins; the rope had been tied tight enough to where it cut off circulation. The gag that had been shoved in her mouth choked her--made it hard to swallow--to breathe. She sank her teeth deep into it to keep herself tamed.

Once the clock's gong stopped ringing, the house fell to a complete silence. There was only the faint sound of her breathing that kept her company. The hard wood floor was cold and unforgiving. It had been her bed for the past hundred and nineteen hours. It was going on its hundred and twentieth.

Her mind had grown weak and empty. She no longer thought about how it happened or asked herself why it happened. She just laid there on the cold, hard wood floor, lifeless. Suddenly, a squeak sounded throughout the house, and her heart began to race like a sprinter as she heard calm footsteps drawing closer and closer. She cringed her eyes shut as tight as she could; panic arose from the pit of her stomach. The footsteps came closer; and closer; and closer.. then they ceased. She opened her eyes as her breathing turned to heaving; sweat raining down from her forehead as the suspense kept jabbing into her lower stomach. The silence is what killed her the most. The unbearable, inadmissible, white noise screaming at her constantly.

Tears began to drip from the corners of her eyes, down her cheeks, landing with a small splash on the floor. The footsteps began again. The suspense. The panic. The paranoia. It all washed into her once more like a wave, drowning her helplessly with no interior motive but the longing to kill. The footsteps led with calm thumps on the wood, growing louder and louder as they drew closer. She felt her soul leave her body once the footsteps had ceased where she thought to be right behind her. Cries and whimpers squealed from her throat; her whole body shivered until it fell stiff. She had no choice but to condemn herself to the inevitable as her eyes wandered until she was capable of seeing through her peripheral vision. 

All she could do was plea, “Please don’t hurt me…”