FINDING A WAY OUT
Mathilda’s POV
I don’t know how many days has passed since I was locked up here but we all know that time plays different when you are confined
There are no clocks and no windows that let in enough sunlight to tell morning from afternoon. The only way I track the days is by the nights, by how many times darkness settles around this cabin, and how many times I wake up still trapped inside it.
If I’m being honest, I should have lost my mind by now.
Maybe I almost did.
But somehow… Samson happened.
Yeah. That Samson.
The same man I kneed, clawed, and dicked in the groin when he tried to molest me.
My harasser.
Please don’t judge me.
I know how that sounds and I know how wrong it looks from the outside, but survival doesn’t care about being moral, all my thoughts
