Fear has a power to move us in ways unimaginable and gives us strength we never knew we had.
The shivering was getting out of hand. My entire body began to quiver, the anxiety overwhelming my delicate system and it was like my mind was in its own personal tug-of-war.
Metal bars sealing me inside were stale and stunk of rust. Concrete slabs for the remaining walls and floor were clean and yet filthy with the crimes committed here in the past. Why was I here?
I hugged myself tighter and rocked on the bench that was barely wide enough to fit me. The tears, though had stopped, have dried in streaks and I’m sure it appeared as though I’d run a mile in a downpour. Looking at my mud infested flats I sighed. Oh wait, that actually happened.
My hands were unrecognizable, the mud dying them a murky brown but I buried my face in them regardless. Just then, a door opened and a single pair of feet ascended down the hall before they halted before my cell.
“You’re free to go, Miss,” the officer directed me, unlocking and sliding the cell door open.
Puzzled, I unattached myself from the bench and hesitated. It couldn’t be that easy.
But I followed the officer out and greeted my savior.
Except he was no savior; he was my captor.