Tethered To a Moment

The chance was there—then quickly snatched away, but that moment became the reason she sustained hope. Her captor had failed to lock the cellar door one day. The key would turn moments later, but she wouldn’t mope. Knowing he might forget again would help her cope. Before her fitful sleep each night, she smiled about that moment, his brief lapse, and felt there would yet be the perfect chance to embrace freedom with a shout, when once again this devil would fail to turn that key and this time walk away. Then no more his evil face she’d see. Each day she wondered when she would be sold. This trafficker who held the key gained perverse elation from taunting her: “The buyer’s on his way. You’re not bold, like when you tried to escape, causing an altercation.” She remained tethered to hope of terror’s cessation. Meals were nutritious and delicious; the bed, just right. All accommodations were the very best. He’d get more money for a healthy product, a pretty sight. He came bearing lunch and vitamins to invest in his captive and a gun to control this unwilling guest. The familiar sound of the key being inserted was followed by--not a click but a loud thud. She ran and opened the door. There he lay, holding his chest. He blurted, “Help . . . heart attack!” She called the police, ending his plan, the fourth day, but it seemed like a year since the terror began. August 24, 2021 Contest: This or That, vol 6--Tethered to a Moment Sponsor: Edward Ibeh