Forthy-three
She lay on her back fastened by leather straps to a narrow bed with a steel frame. She had long since given up trying to free herself.
"If you live with spirits you die with spirits," were the only words he had spoken to her. "Live with... die with them..."
The words kept repeating themselves in her head. It was more out of habit she kept her eyes closed. The darkness he had left her behind wasn't different from the one she had been used to her entire life. It always had been dark in her world even the spirits didn't show themselves to her as bundles of light.
"You shouldn't have told him," a voice said, or at least it was what she believed.
She knew she told him, had to tell him since honesty always works out the best, at least that was how she was raised. Honestly... Did anyone care about honesty at all?
"It's good to be different, there's nothing wrong with being different," another voice said.
Was it? It never brought her anything. She knew it wouldn't benefit her this time either.
She marked off another day in her head. It was the forthy-third day of her imprisonment... The forty-third day and no one had missed her, would miss her.
She must have dozed off... He had come in, she recognized his smell, she hated his smell and he knew it. It had been one of those issues between them why she had tried to leave him. Her attempt failed, she failed, the thick runner of carpet caused her fall, and the spirits... they had let her down as well.
"Happy birthday," he said. "I just stop by to tell you it's your birthday." His voice sounded neutral while his fingers ran over her body. "I read it in your feed. Happy birthday sweet sixteen."
She didn't want to listen and ignored him. Ignoring was the best, it had always worked but this time...
"I told you so," a voice said.
'I told you so' was one of those phrases she hated.
"Shut up," she yelled and immediately heard him raise his voice.
He talked about mutual trust. Mutual trust? Was he kidding her? She refused to answer and twisted to the right. Mutual trust.
He fastened her feet and left. She heard the click of the door lock and was alone again. Alone in the darkness, utter silence but still alive. He had left her behind to live with the spirits, those who had reached out to her, spoke to her, and... had told her so. What had to be said she had let out and so had he. She kept her eyes closed and thought about her next moves. Not that she was able to move but only those who set goals have something to live for. He would return, not today but tomorrow or the day after.
"Forty-five is enough, day forty-five is the one", she promised to herself, "he can't keep me strapped forever."
The prompts used: 'live with spirits', 'thick runner of carpet', 'utter silence' and 'in your feed' are provided by @mariannewest and sentences out of Stieg Larsson's The girl who played with fore are used too.
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