The Dollhouse

Flash-foward    The musky scent of the walls filled my nostrils and was filtered through my lungs. Harsh breaths escaped my lips. My limbs were throbbing from exhaustion. Hope rose inside of me at the familiar scent of the earth. I happily took a deep breath. I was going to get out. I turned to my right, she was falling behind me. Her face was sunken in from the starvation, scars forming from the torture. I grabbed her hand and thrust her to my side and continued running. I took another peek at her face. Tears rolled down her cheeks, cleaning the dirt that clung to her skin. Anger filled my body. He did this to her. No... correction, I did. It was all my fault. The bastard f****d up her beautiful face and used my hand to do it. I wouldn't let him get away with it. He's already taken everything from me. He won't take her, I won't allow it.     "Almost there. Run faster we can do this," I heard myself say. My voice sounded wrong. It was breathy and sharp. It wasn't the voice I remembered. It wasn't the voice that would crack jokes. It wasn't the one that would laugh uncontrollably. It wasn't full of emotions. It sounded dead. I sounded dead. The bastard even took my f*****g voice.     My thoughts were interrupted by a loud crack. My vision grew blurry and I fell to my side. I yelped in pain. Something happened. The bastard came back. Realization dawned on me as an intrusive thought made its way into my head. We won't make it out alive.