I hear the lock click over, but I don’t turn around.
My mind, body, and soul are spent. I’ve tried to fight. I’ve begged, but I’m no closer to escaping this nightmare. I don’t know how many days, weeks have passed. All I know is that I’m losing hope.
Where is Punky? Could it be that he’s really…dead?
I hold back my tears as my captor rushes into the room because she is usually a lot more composed. Her panic has me turning over my shoulder to look at her. She doesn’t ask but simply opens my mouth and shoves a sock into it.
Before I can spit it out, she ties the belt of a velvet dressing gown around my face, securing the sock into my mouth.
A muffled “No!” leaves me, but she’s done a good job at gagging me.
This is new. I wonder why she wants me silenced.
Pure hatred is exchanged betw
