It’s dark... But it doesn’t take my sight to feel the tight ropes that binds my wrists. Just as it doesn’t take my hands to know that I’m being starved to death at this moment.
“Moommy” I weakly call out her name, all the while trying to break free from the binds “Mommy!”
4 years old me sniffed as I watched in the direction of the closed doors, anticipating for someone to walk in with food, or anything to quench my taste.
Even if I were to stay here the rest of my life, at least let me be fed.
“Quincy!” I wept as no one came showed up “Quincy... please”
I couldn’t call out to my dad, because if my memory of the past serves me right, he was the one who had tied and left me here to rot away.
Either way, I soon gave up. The struggle was pointless and energy draining.
“Mom?” I asked w
