The Captive's Plea

Vivienne wasn’t sure how long she’d slept. The days felt blurred, like they were bleeding into each other. She stirred awake as the sound of the bolt sliding open filled the room. Her heart raced. This was the routine: three times a day, the door would open, a meal would be brought in, and the man would take her dirty dishes. Then, silence—just her and the suffocating stillness of the small room.