Eliza Browning sits in the lodge on a wicker seat, staring out the rain drop covered window.
I should do something, not just sit here. I should have a shower, look at my hair! It hasn't been this greasy since I spent a week with my sister. Get up, Eliza. Get up. GET UP!
Finally listening to her inner voice, Eliza stands up. She walks over to the front door and checks that it's locked.
Clump.
She freezes.
Clump. Clump.
Starting to shake, she turns towards the windows. A shadow appears to move past them, but it's hard to tell. It's so dark. She darts over to the unlit fire and grabs the poker, gripping it close to her chest.
Knock-knock.
Eliza lets out a terrified scream. "No! Can't I ever be free!"
Knock-knock.
Hang on...only one person knows I'm here, and she promised not to come. What does that mean??? Surely they wouldn't have been able to get it out of her?
An awful thought comes into her head: torture.
Knock-knock.
Taking a deep breath, Eliza walks back over to the door and reaches toward the chain with a quivering hand. She pulls it off, and tightens her hold on the poker at the same time. This time I won't be so submissive.
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.10 seconds at 2:52am on Dec 18, 2024 via server WEBX1.