Dame Still In Distress

Silent Screams

I could barely manage to open my eyes; my lids were weighed down by a tonne. 

This had got to be my hundredth time waking from my frequent slumbers in this same sitting position.

Twenty four hours never felt so long before, I knew the time because right before my very eyes the clock counted in reverse. 

The darkness was thick, nothing but the green light of the timer was visible, though faintly. 

The fear, the tears and fatigue in my eyes didn't make my absence of vision much better. 

My entire body ached from the torture; I might have sustained a couple broken ribs. 

I was sure to be missing my left ring finger; completely amputated and not even professionally. 

My underwear, the only clothes I was wearing were still drenched in my own blood, though my wounds had stopped oozing the liquor.

I was bounded to what felt like a wooden chair, fastened in the sitting position. 

My hands and feet were locked at the wrists and ankles respectively while my head was fixed in the direction of the ticking clock. 

The solitude was crude, only rodents kept my company.

I screamed but all that came out of my mouth was silence.

I choked on the the gag and grew more and more dehydrated. 

Nonetheless I vociferated in desperation. 

But as my vocal chords grew increasingly tired, my already muffled screams dropped to zero decibels.

Even my thoughts blurred, how could a husband be so gruesome? Infidelity doesn't warrant this.    

The lights flickered on for ten seconds and I could see the white bed sheets with the familiar rose petal patterns on its border lines, they were on the bed the first night we ever made love three years ago.

It was decorated with what appeared to be blood, must have been my own. 

The red words laughed at my agony as they offered felicitations, "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!"