She was alone. She had been alone for a long time.
The only human she had ever seen was the one who gave her everything. He gave her gruel, liquid, newspapers, beatings, scalpels...
The room was bare. The walls were flat gray, with not a speck of peeling or lumps of wall. The only light hung perfectly in the center by a chain. The only door was always locked. The only window faced out upon the tiny bit of chaos. A lake. The Lake of the Monster.
The only human said that the dog water in that lake will drive anyone insane if they drink the water. Therefore, she refused, holding onto her sanity.
...
The newspaper hits her again. It does not hurt anymore, she learned to block it. She could block the feeling of the hitting, even though her back was bruised by the newspaper.
The only human dropped the paper, before exiting the room again. If the light was bright enough so she could read the paper, she would see the headline about the Lake of the Monster. There were sightings of a dog-like cryptid among the water, staring at the top window of a house. Alas, she was too small to reach the only light chain, and she was never taught to read. Still, the picture of the dog over the Lake of the Monster stared back at her.
The next day, the only human gave a bowl of tasteless stale gruel and took the newspaper. From the only window, she could see the smoke caused by him burning the newspaper- and all of the others.
The only human said that the dog water in the lake will drive anyone insane if they drink the water. She still believed him, though she thought about the dog.
...
The room was cold. If she could reach the light, she would have for the incandescent bulb to warm up enough for her. Maybe she could knock the bulb down. The fire would warm her up.
Today was the day that the only human left the house. The sound of the car resonated into her room even though she was on the second floor. Every time he left, the only human returned with cigarettes and alcohol. Those were bad days. Cigarettes give burns and alcohol gives glass bottles.
Her cuts from the last month had healed. The blood had dried, the tears had dried. The lake stayed wet. The Lake of the Monster always stayed wet.
The next issue of the newspaper that the only human forgot said how the dog was only spotted by a drunkard madman. However, when she looked at the Lake of the Monster, she thought she saw a figure. A dog. When she looked again, it vanished.
The roaring voice of the only human arrived with footsteps creeping up the stairs. Through her watching the lake, she failed to notice the engine of the car entering and stopping under her. Holding a half-empty bottle of brandy, the only human entered the doorway while taking a swig. By the time she saw him open the door, the bottle had only a few lingering drops left.
The only human said that the dog water in the lake will drive anyone insane if they drink the water. She did not dare to think it, as the dog was there.
...
Someone whispered from the window. Her eyes slid open, to look out. The dog was at the far edge of the lake. Its back was turned to her. Its tail wagged. The water rippled.
The only human had come back. This time, he laid wires around the room. If she touched one, she was fine. She did not think about it, still staying by the window. By the time he was gone, a labyrinth of wire strung around her. One brushed her foot. She was fine.
When she got up hours later, she noticed the wire and tried to walk to her sleeping spot. The trick with the wire was that touching 1 did not do anything, but touching 2 completed the circuit. The sweat emitted from her body only worsened the pain. The hot flashes of electricity covered her body and shook through her bones. It rattled her mind and nearly stopped her heart. She was alive, but only just.
