Writing Prompts I wrote for school

(4-13-16) Run

     The light goes out for five seconds. When they turn back on again, I see a note stuck to the window. It says one word, "RUN." I didn't understand at first. I stood weighing the pros and cons. I don't know how I got here. It's just a small cement room with a window. I can tell I'm really high up from the window, but that's it.

     If I run it's out the window. I looked around the room, there was a small duffle bag in the corner that wasn't there before. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there in my straitjacket. The lights went out again and I begin to panic. I knew how to escape a straitjacket, so I tried.

      I shoved my arm up to my shoulder as the faint sound of unzipping found my ears. Panic filled me as I shoved my arm over my head. I began to hear the muffling of fabric as I began undoing and loosening buckles. Footsteps started as I began shoving it off. I pressed myself against the window in an effort to escape as I feel breathing down my neck and faint words as a cold piece of metal rested on the edge of my neck.

     I could see out the window. There where big buildings and city lights, but they were all off. Not a single light was on. I could almost make out something on the side walk, but not quite. It was so cold in the room, but I was sweating. I pushed on the window in a desperate attempt to save myself to no prevail. His warm breath spit the cold words "Just go to sleep. It'll all be over soon" as the cold metal dragged across my neck. A sharp noise soon ripped off the blanket of sleep that overwhelmed me.

     The nightmare keeps coming back. When I was only four years old, I witness as a man killed my mom. We were in the highest room of some building whose name I can't remember. I tried clawing at the window, but, to no prevail. I was found the next morning barely clinging on to life. After years of therapy, I thought I had overcame my trauma, but just a few days ago, the nightmares started.

     The anniversary of her death will be tomorrow. Maybe that has something to do with it. I got up from my bed, rubbing the sleep from my groggy eyes. I was swimming in heat yet I was still in a cold sweat. I put on the jeans I had set out, but the top was gone. I was too tired to be confused, so I went into my closet to find it. I didn't find my top, but instead: a straitjacket, soaked in blood.