TWO

1

My mind began to regain consciousness as I could feel a cold concrete floor beneath me. I flickered my eyes open but winced them closed at the sight of a bright rectangular light that sat in a row on the ceiling. I reached up towards my eyes and rubbed to try to adjust them to the new lighting. My stomach sank deep within my body as I looked around the room I was in. It was a very small room with a small mattress placed in the corner. The room was made completely of concrete and a small metal door sat off center on one of the matching walls. I got up to attempt to reach the door when I was brought harshly to the ground by a heavy weight that sat on my right ankle. There was a small metal latch hooked around my leg, attached to a corroded chain that was secured harshly into the ground. I had rather small feet and I began attempting to wiggle my way out of the harsh locking. My ankle started to bleed against the hard metal and I tried to reach for anything around that could help me. I got to my feet again and started to analyze the cell I was locked inside. I looked down at my figure and noticed that I was left only in my undergarments. The mattress had a neatly folded blanket and sheet laid on it, as well as a small pillow with no case. There was a few stacks of books placed neatly beside the make shift bed and my stomach felt like it had reached new lengths than ever before. There was three books; Great Expectations, Jane Eyre and The Witching Night. They appeared to be the same hardcover copies I had placed right beside my bed at home. I attempted to reach towards them while the chain rattled beneath me. I attempted to lay out on the ground to try to get as much reach as I could. Finally knocking the stack over I grabbed the copy of Jane Eyre.

My eyes started to water as I opened the thick book. On the first page written in the handwriting of my grandmother, To, Frances. For I hope this novel will bring you as much pleasure as it has brought me. Love, Grandma. xo. I threw dropped the book as my heart felt like it was going to fall out of my chest, where am I? What happened prior to me being in this room that has led me here? I tried hard to remember, and then suddenly it all came back to me. Harry. His broken down car, and my bag that sat on the passengers seat floor.

"Why are you doing this?!" I screamed, unsure if anybody could even hear me.

That's when I noticed the small windowed hole through the door. I wasn't able to get very close to the exit as the chain attached to my limb wouldn't allow me to move more than twenty inches away from where the chain had met with the floor. I quickly ran to the end of the chain in attempt to see how it was attached. My eyes started to water as I noticed. It looked like it had been poured in with the concrete when the room was made and from my guess, it was buried deep within the floor. My head turned quickly to the door when I heard a loud sound. It sounded like a few buttons were clicked, followed by a loud sound of a lock being twisted open. The door squeaked very loudly as a man slowly walked inside.

It was the man from before. I faintly remembered our brief conversations and that he mentioned his name was Harry. His long dark curls looked to a lot messier than when I previously had met him, and he was now in a tight black t-shirt that clung to each muscle. He stepped inside with his loud black boots clicking on each step. I tried so hard to speak, but I was afraid of a consequence.

He walked over to the bed and started to lay out the sheets. Stretching over the small mattress and laid a thicker blanket over top. He shimmied the flat pillow into the white pillowcase and put it in place. The man shook his head in disapproval as he straightened out the books and put them back to their original spot.

"I don't like a mess." He spoke firmly. "You won't be causing a mess now, will you?"

I swallowed the harsh burning ball that laid in my throat and attempted to speak.

"Where am I?" I asked in a very low tone.

The man turned over to me and bent down slightly. With such a large frame, he still towered over my small body that was sat on the floor.

"You're home now." He lightly formed the side of his lips into a smirk.

"This is a dungeon." I cried.

His large hand implanted a bright red burning in the side of my cheek as it came in contact. My head shot to the side and my hand went up to comfort the burning flesh. The man lifted his large hand and grabbed my wrist in a firm hold. "I don't want to hurt you." He began to speak. "But I won't tolerate ungratefulness." He let go of his firm grasp and flung my arm towards me.

He sat above me on the creaking bed and began to light a cigarette. I had a million questions to ask but my fear had left me completely silent. I knew I had to be discreet with my thoughts. I instantly started to analyze everything, studying all of his moves from a far and noticed that he had a small gash over his left eyebrow.

I looked at the floor in front of me as multiple tears flew down my cheeks. The man stood over me now, leaving a distinct shadow of his frame. He dug something out of his tight jean pocket and placed it on the bed. I didn't look up as I was afraid to make eye contact with him. "I like it when your hair is up." He let out a small huff and exited out the door. My body jolted as the sound of the large lock closed behind him. Securely locking me inside.

I waited a few seconds as I heard large footsteps sounding like they were going up stairs. I quickly ran over to the bed to see what he had left. It was a long white ribbon. It was in my hair the last morning I went to school, I took it out midway through class as I was getting a bit cold. I remember placing it inside the front pocket of my backpack and securely zipped it inside. Is this what he meant when he commented on liking a certain style on my hair?

Ignoring the small ribbon, I looked down and my now roughly cut up ankle. It was bleeding so harshly that I noticed it was running onto the floor, leaving a small splatter. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and dipped my shaking finger into the small pool of blood. Looking up at the concrete wall, I wrote a single one.

2

I sat shivering against the cold concrete with my back against the only wall I could reach. I didn't know what to think and I didn't know how to get my mind to even begin to quiet down. There were a million things filing through it and I couldn't help but slowly start to rock my body forwards and backwards. I held my exposed knees deep to my chest with my arms wrapped tightly around them. I was absolutely freezing but I was unable to reach the blankets on the hard mattress that laid adjacent from me.

Thats when I began to think of my mother. Who was probably worried sick as I wasn't one to not come home exactly when planned. I was never one to go out with friends without calling, and I sure as hell wasn't the type to disappear without any trace. I rubbed my face in horror as my mind was bringing me to an array of dark thoughts. What was this man planning to do with me? Was he going to kill me? Why did he have this strange room accessible to him? Has there been others?

Looking around the room in a panic I noticed that the far corner beside the doorframe had a small crack that ran through the wall. It looked like the building wasn't made very well and that this room had too much pressure laying on top of it, slowly squeezing and sinking it farther into the earth. I continued to study the crack and noticed that there was a small vent above it. It was completely bolted into place and looked like it wasn't easy to crack open. My body fell to the ground and I laid there cold, tears beginning to pool on the concrete.

3

I awoke to the familiar noise of the door being unlocked and pushed open. The man walked in carrying a small tray with a cover sitting on top. The sight of him made me jump quickly against the hard wall, attempting to be as far away from him as possible. He placed the tray within reach of me and walked outside again. I tried to see what was outside of the small door, but it just looked exactly the same of what was in here. Shifting to the right to try to get a better view, I noticed a small set of wooden stairs leading upwards. The man quickly returned into the room and shut the loud door behind him. He now carried a small pile of clothing in his hands, and I noticed he had a yellow strap around one of his shoulders. As he turned around to place the clothing on the mattress, I saw that he was carrying my backpack. He quickly pulled it off his large shoulder and placed it beside the neat pile of clothing.

He turned around to be and noticed that I hadn't moved from my original spot, still sitting against the cold wall, flinching at his every move. The man looked me up and down and pulled the tray from my reach.

"Good girls get dinner." He spoke as he tossed the white ribbon in my direction.

"Put it on." He gestured towards the ribbon, implying for me to put it in my hair.

My shaking hand extended from my body and I tried my hardest to just comply with him. I slowly began to tuck my hair behind my ears and tie the small ribbon to hold it all in place. It was a messier than usual, considering my hands wouldn't stop shaking. But I found the strength within my fingers to tie it in a bow behind me. Harry's expression shifted and he started to look a bit happier. I wanted to throw up at the sight of him gaining pleasure from me tying my hair back. He slid the tray of food back into my reach.

"It's your favourite." He spoke.

The man continued to walk towards the door, and once again looked back at me. His mouth started to slowly open as if he was about to say something. He looked back towards the door and hastily shut his lips. He walked outside and I heard the loud piercing noise of the lock. I ran towards my backpack, hoping that my keys were still sat in the front pocket. It was empty. All the loose change and hair ties I had kept in here have been taken. I quickly tried to zip open the main part to see if there was anything inside. I pulled out the schools copy of Hotel, by Arthur Hailey, the newly assigned book for reading club. There were a few loose period pads that I had shoved in there a few weeks ago, and the knitted jumper that my mother had given me for Christmas last year. That was it. No keys and no sign of any tool that could help me escape.