Set Me Free

'What a terrible way to go.'

"It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."

Morning came around slowly and painfully. With nothing but the cold ground as a bed, sleep was never going to be a possibility. Now, eyes stinging from exhaustion, I lay in wait for what the day held.

Usually, I would awake to the sound of my alarm, alerting me that I had to get up for work. I used to dread that noise, ripping me from my slumber into a new day of spreadsheets and emails. Now, I long to hear the shrill ring of that alarm, to feel the normalcy that comes with it.

By now, work would know that there was something wrong. I was never the type to turn up with no reason or phone call, to not turn up for two days with no explanation would surely raise suspicions. Maybe that means someone has alerted the police of my disappearance, maybe now people will be looking for me.

I had no idea where I was, whether I was still in my small town or somewhere further afield. If these men were as professional as they appeared to be, I won't be hidden somewhere easy to find. I must be off the radar, somewhere remote and guarded.

Any little hope I had of being found fell dead in my chest. They weren't amateurs, this wasn't their first kidnapping. I wasn't going to be found until they wanted me to be.

If they ever wanted me to be.

If I died here, I would hope that they would have the decency to let them find my body, to let my family and friends have the closure they deserve. I don't want them wondering for the rest of their lives what happened to me, wondering if I was still out there somewhere. I wanted a burial, a funeral and I believed I was entitled to one. Everyone deserves a send off, a chance for people to truly say goodbye.

I had never thought much about my funeral, believing that I had years ahead of me to plan such a morbid event. But now, I wanted to think about it, to think about what my last requests would be.

I would want people to bring me lilies, they were always my favourite flower. I would want them to play music really loud and to dance and laugh and drink. I always loved a good party, it would only be fitting that my send off would be a damn good one. People would cry and I know that, but afterwards I would want them to tell funny stories about the short life I had lived, to laugh and smile at the memories we had created together. A funeral shouldn't be a sad thing, but a celebration of the life that you had been touched by.

"Breakfast," a voice muffles behind the door before knocking softly. I already knew who it was, anyone else would have barged in.

"Come in," I smile, sitting up at the prospect of food and company.

Daniel awkwardly shuffles into my cell, plate in one hand, mug in the other. My eyes light up at the idea of a good cup of tea. I used to start every day with a tea or coffee, the caffeine was always what I need to face dullness of work.

"Morning," he says, laying the food before me and sitting back against the wall he claimed last night. Tea and toast greats me, the smell making my mouth water. If I didn't know that the contents of the mug would scold my mouth, I would have already dived in.

"Thank you," I smile, small tears forming in the corners of my eyes. It was amazing what a small gesture of generosity could do to your emotions.

"Sorry it's not much, I was being watched," he apologises, smiling at me sadly.

"This is perfect, more than enough."

This seems to brighten his smile a fraction as he urges me to tuck in.

"Okay, so today's card game is go fish, you know how to play?" With a mouthful of toast I nod eagerly, my friends and I would spend many evenings sitting round the garden table telling each other in our funniest voices to 'fish bitch' every time someone had to go fish. I almost had the urge to blurt this out now. However, I was all too aware that this would make me appear psychotic and I wasn't ready to let him think that.

"Okay then, I'll deal."

We play 'Go Fish' for a while, him once again proving that he was a lot better than me at card games. I wasn't going to let it show on my face but I hated that he kept beating me. I was always known to be a bit of a sore loser.

"Geez, you really don't like losing do you?" He asks me. Okay, so maybe I didn't hide my disappointment at another loss too well.

"Fine, I'm sore loser, I hate not winning things. Especially something I believed I was good at. Now you've crushed all dreams I had at quitting my day job and becoming a full time 'Go Fish' player," I sigh dramatically, laying back against my thin blanket on the floor. I wince a little at the coldness of it, at the way the hard ground hurts my back.

He looks at me in sympathy for a second before the smug grin slips back onto his face.

"Please, I've just saved you the trouble of finding out the hard way. Imagine walking away from paying work only to find out that you could never make it as a professional. The realisation would have crushed you."

"I would have made it work," I state, taking a second to look at my surroundings, my tiny four walled cell.

"We should get you outside," Daniel states suddenly.

Outside? Surely that was a no go area. I didn't really see my other kidnappers being okay with a little field trip.

"Just outside the front. It wouldn't be much but it would be something. You haven't seen daylight in nearly two days now, you must feel suffocated."

He didn't know the half of it. Every since being here I had felt this sense of claustrophobia creeping over me. I had never minded small spaces, I could travel in lifts and being strapped into rollercoasters never got my heart pumping. But this was different, this time I knew I had no where to go. You knew you would make it out of the lift on your elected floor, you knew that the roller coaster would eventually come to a stop. I didn't know if I was just ever leaving this room and that was when the claustrophobia would set in.

The walls would close in, the room would feel smaller and the air thinner as if every particle of it was being sucked from the room, leaving me with nothing left to breathe. My heart rate would raise, my throat would close and I would slowly suffocate there, silently in my own prison.

It wasn't until I felt Daniel shaking me by the shoulders that I realised it was all real, I was having an attack now. What I thought was a list of symptoms I was bound to get sooner or later was my reality. I was really suffocating, dying, and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought my death would be at the hands of the men that had brought me here, at the end of a gun or knife. I never imagined that my death would be start as a figment of my own imagination. I knew that the walls weren't really closing in, I knew that there was air left to breathe. But somehow, my body didn't know this and it was dying as a result.

What a terrible way to go.