I can hear the scratching, almost feel the pecking—something trying to claw its way inside.
I look out the windows, and the abyss swallows the night.

Minutes, hours, nights, weeks, months, years.
I don’t know.
I’ve lost track of time.

I’m caged, but I’m safe.

That doesn’t stop the screaming.
The boards tearing from my walls.
The pounding.
I’m terrified of what’s out there, but I can’t see.
And there’s no way to look.
Terrified of the unknown.
Even more terrified that there’s nothing.

I am starved.
Wilting.
The fire suffocating, snuffed.

The banging grows louder.
The screams stab at my very being.
Until, like an animal killing its hunt—I tear off the door and see.

Light.
Screens on my windows.
A tree brushing the house.
Birds singing.

The only thing holding me in was me.

I run outside, breathe in the air.
There’s a small fountain.
I look down.

I see my captor.

I will be held back no longer.
Not by the safe that chokes.
Not by the safe that bolts me down from possibility.

I choose to breathe.
I choose risk.
I choose the unknown.

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