Locked in a basement for months, with a dirty one-by-three-foot window her only evidence that the outside world still existed, she sometimes wished she was dead. Not because she had lost hope, but rather if she was a ghost, she could walk through the closed door to freedom.
She wanted nothing more than to return to a life with a man who didn’t know she was alive. To die in such a hell hole alone was unthinkable. Somehow, through her dreams and his, she would let him know she was alive.
From a work-in-progress.