.Chapter 18

It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, I chant to myself in my head, forcing my eyes which feel really gritty open, only to see nothing more than darkness surrounding me. Wherever I am theres’ not much light to see.

My head is f*****g throbbing and I wince as I try to move my arms and legs to no avail. Something was chaffing and I looked down to see that I was firmly tied to a chair, my legs tied to the legs and my arms behind me. I swear, but it’s muffled by the gag that’s been shoved in my mouth and tied around my head.

“Mmmf” I cry out but there’s no answer and my eyes scan whatever the hell this room is for any sign of escape.

It appears to be a basement of some sort, the floor a hard concrete, various pieces of furniture in states of decay.

The air smells disgusting and moldy and I try not to inhale too much. There’s nothing that I can use to free myself and I feel sick to my stomach.

Even on the baddest of days I had never once thought my father was capable of selling me to someone for money. I thought maybe, in the smallest bit of his heart he might have actually given some sort of damn about me.

How naive was I? He’d never forgiven me for mother’s death and if he wanted to destroy any love I might have had for him, this was the way to do it. I shove frantically at the chair, scraping it across the floor and curse at the noise it makes. Maybe theres something in one of the drawers of the various furniture that might have something useful.

But as I’m moving something catches the corner of my eye and I whip my head around and begin to feel a rising sense of panic.

other bits of furniture in the basement but it’s almost new, and it’s made up. Why would a bed be made up in a basement? There was only one

no telling when whoever had bought me would

of drag it with my body, careful not to tip over and fall. It makes a racket but I’m past the point of caring, my only focus is getting out of

is empty, or at least it feels like it, it’s kinda difficult to see properly and feel with hands that don’t have much give. I wonder about using the corner of the desk

try and

don’t even know how long I’ve been out for.

know what the person who bought e plans to do to me and it’s the last way I imagined

I couldn’t talk my way out of it, I tip myself sideways and let the chair fall, hoping

seem to be slightly looser and I wiggle and pull and tug as hard as I can

they begin to get slack. Way to go Winter, I cheer myself on,

I’m forced to stay lying down as I tug and pull, swearing to myself. I take the gag off and am about to call out for help when I stop. If I call out he, whoever he was, would hear me. For all I knew he was upstairs waiting for me to wake up. So I keep silent and the ropes begin to slacken and then finally pull off, leaving me free to get to my

and needles.

search the room for any windows or doors besides

up. A weapon

stairs, clutching the banister for support as I make my way up,

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