Trapped

I became accustomed to waking up in the dirty and lonely room. But one think that irked me for the past two days was my severely dry throat. I kept hoping the guy would come in again and offer me water. I didn't really sleep last night; my stomach kept grumbling and I kept hearing yelling and screaming outside my door. But he must've come in during the short time I had slept because the pair of soaked bread and the mattress that was usually on my left was gone. I shouldn't have talked back to him, I thought. My hunger was so bad that with every breath in and out, I would have a shooting pain in my stomach, and it would start rumbling again.

I became desperate that morning, on the verge of passing out, and screamed the first thing I could think of. "Help!" I just needed to say something to get someone in this room and get me food and water. "Help!" I screamed again. I heard approaching footsteps out my door. They weren't rushed steps, but slowly and surely they were coming. The 5 locks clicked open and the tired-looking, blond-haired, blue-eyed man I recognized too well appeared in the doorway.

"What?" he said in an exasperated tone.

"Umm. Can I... can I have a drink? Or some food?" My voice got smaller with each word.

"What, so I can hear more of your mouth?" And with that, he went to close the door behind him.

"Wait! Please..." I begged. He only continued to close the door as he left. "Please..." I repeated to myself. My throat was so scratchy and sore and it hurt to talk.

I sat there for nearly and hour before the guy showed up again with a small glass of water. He walked right up to me and said, "Open up." I wasn't sure what he was playing at. Was he going to actually pour it down my throat? When I opened my mouth, he splashed the whole glass of water in my face. Barely any water made it in my mouth. Sputtering and coughing, I tried to wipe my eyes on my shoulder. While in the process of doing so, I heard the door slam and the locks click again.

If I could slap him, I would've. Even if I could have tripped him. I was so furious at him. The water dripped off of my face and onto my legs. Not until now did I realize that I had my normal clothes back on, not my swimsuit. I started to panic. What else did he do to me while I was passed out? Now I really wished my parents were here.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was now nearly pitch black in the room. He had only come in once again about 2 hours ago to give me a piece of bread. He had tossed it on my lap and left, but I had figured out how to eat it. It wasn't much, but it was enough to put the edge off my deathly hunger. My good hand started throbbing now. The ropes were finally getting to me; I could tell I had deep cuts in my wrists, and my broken hand was hurting worse than before now.

I had been crying when the door locks opened again. The man came in my room again, but this time, not alone. He was dragging in a struggling, whimpering, screaming girl. He threw her down on the ground somewhere. I just sat there and listened. The guy left her frozen on the floor and he went back outside to get a chair and ropes. He must've also tied her up the same way he had done to me from what I could hear and see. The doorway was letting in little light for me to see. He left again, leaving me with the crying girl in the dark.

Deja vu.