Captive
You stand up and look around the room, convinced that the light sound came from somewhere near the bed. Unsure now, and feeling close to paranoia, you walk to the bed and sit tentatively on the edge. You strain your ears, trying to pick up any sound. Absolutely nothing. It must have been wistful thinking on your part. Just as you are about to lie down and give up you hear it again, this time with more clarity.
A sigh. You've definately heard a sigh, coming from somewhere near the head board of the bed. You turn, knees on the bed now, and crawl towards the head board, not an easy task as you grasp the quilt with one hand and use the elbow of your other arm to propel you forward.
You reach the head board and search with your eyes.
"Jesus! How did I miss that?" you ask yourself as you stare at the small peephole just slightly above the head board. You lean forward and cautiously peer through the peephole. All you can see is what looks like another, smaller bedroom, furnished with a sofa bed, a single-doored armoire and a desk. There is also a maroon colored leather reclining chair in the farthest corner.
Like an atom bomb you are suddenly hit with the knowledge that someone has been watching you all this time. You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end at the thought. Someone has been watching your every move, a witness to your fear, anger and frustration, to your very nakedness.
You feel the overwhelming desire to yell through the peephole, demanding that your faceless captor show themselves. But you quickly quell that desire, not wishing to rile what might very well be a psychopath.
But what to do now? Wait for them to come through the door? Keep a watch on the peephole in case they come back? No, the first thing to do is block the peephole.
You jump off the bed and walk across the room to the armoire. You open the door, reach up to the shelf, and remove the book. Turning it over you notice the title..."The Jealous Heart." Hmmm. Maybe a romance novel? You could care less at this point. You walk back to the bed, sit down, and open the book. Even in your present circumstances you cannot bring yourself to rip out a printed page, so you quickly turn to the blank end pages and rip one out, wadding it up into a small crumpled ball. You stick the mass into the peephole, feeling better that at least your privacy is preserved for the moment.
With nothing else to do you...
A sigh. You've definately heard a sigh, coming from somewhere near the head board of the bed. You turn, knees on the bed now, and crawl towards the head board, not an easy task as you grasp the quilt with one hand and use the elbow of your other arm to propel you forward.
You reach the head board and search with your eyes.
"Jesus! How did I miss that?" you ask yourself as you stare at the small peephole just slightly above the head board. You lean forward and cautiously peer through the peephole. All you can see is what looks like another, smaller bedroom, furnished with a sofa bed, a single-doored armoire and a desk. There is also a maroon colored leather reclining chair in the farthest corner.
Like an atom bomb you are suddenly hit with the knowledge that someone has been watching you all this time. You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end at the thought. Someone has been watching your every move, a witness to your fear, anger and frustration, to your very nakedness.
You feel the overwhelming desire to yell through the peephole, demanding that your faceless captor show themselves. But you quickly quell that desire, not wishing to rile what might very well be a psychopath.
But what to do now? Wait for them to come through the door? Keep a watch on the peephole in case they come back? No, the first thing to do is block the peephole.
You jump off the bed and walk across the room to the armoire. You open the door, reach up to the shelf, and remove the book. Turning it over you notice the title..."The Jealous Heart." Hmmm. Maybe a romance novel? You could care less at this point. You walk back to the bed, sit down, and open the book. Even in your present circumstances you cannot bring yourself to rip out a printed page, so you quickly turn to the blank end pages and rip one out, wadding it up into a small crumpled ball. You stick the mass into the peephole, feeling better that at least your privacy is preserved for the moment.
With nothing else to do you...