Don't Get Into The Car

[ 7 ]

You try to sleep, you really do. Every fibre of your being yearns for a moment of respite. For a brief escape from the reality, pressing so heavily upon you. But the harsh, glaring sunlight that stubbornly seeps through the cracks of the window, rudely swamping the room with an overbearing, sickly yellow hue, is unrelenting in its refusal to let you rest. You squint against the intrusive brightness. It's a stark contrast to the darkness you've grown accustomed to.

With a gritty determination akin to a soldier preparing for battle, you manage to peel yourself off the bed. Your body protests with each movement as you fight off the gravity. You navigate the room with the intention to draw the curtains shut, hoping to shroud the room in the solace of shadows once more. But as you approach the curtains, you realise that sleep will remain a distant dream.

Your gaze shifts towards the window, where your fingertips begin to glide over the smooth, icy surface of the glass. It stands as a cold, unyielding barrier between you and the world blooming beyond it. It's as if you're a bird trapped within a transparent cage, observing the unfettered sky yet unable to spread your wings and fly.

You notice the absence of handles or the screws that once held them in place—there's no easy way for you to open the windows.

You find yourself contemplating your courage, questioning if you would have the guts to leap through the open window, if given a chance. It's a thought as daunting as standing on the edge of a precipice, staring into the abyss.

Your eyes sweep across the expansive landscape.. After enduring the relentless cycle of sunless days and pitch-black nights, trapped like a forgotten prisoner in the dim, dank basement, where the four unyielding walls often seemed to close in on you, as if threatening to swallow you whole, the sensation of watching the sunrise is strange. The vastness of the world outside, the freedom it represents, feels almost too foreign, too distant a concept for you to entirely grasp in your current state of mind.

The forest, a dense, mysterious stretch of greenery that extends around the entirety of the property, lies just across the house. Its daunting shadows and eerie silence send a shiver down your spine and open a floodgate of questions in your mind.

Would Simon be able to track you down in there? Or would the towering trees, with their thick canopies and hidden alcoves, provide you with the safety and invisibility you so desperately seek? There's a part of you that wants to believe in the latter, to hold on to the hope that you could somehow disappear, meld into the forest's undergrowth, and remain undetected.

But on the other hand, you're also brutally aware of your own limitations. You have no survival skills, no knowledge of how to ignite a fire using nature's resources, or how to locate a source of drinkable water in the wilderness. You don't know how to protect yourself from the harsh weather, how to prevent yourself from freezing to death in the cold, unforgiving nights.

It would be comforting to imagine that you could stumble upon a sign of civilization - another remote house, a gas station tucked away on a forgotten road, or even just the distant hum of a car passing by. But the bitter truth is that you are far removed from civilization, located miles away, stuck somewhere in the heart of the wilderness.

As you continue to stand, your eyes dart over your shoulder, much like a hunted deer aware of the lingered presence of a predator. You contemplate your next move. The thought of going to the bathroom crosses your mind. With hesitant steps, you approach the door. Walking across the hallway is tempting, almost inviting. You could seize the opportunity to check if the windows there are as barren of handles as the ones in the room. And perhaps, if you dare to venture further, you could take a more thorough look around the bathroom. The possibility of finding something in there, something sharp and sturdy, something that could be used for self defense, lingers in your thoughts.