Neurotic // h.s

3

Ella Perry

My smaller eyes flickered open, as the gleaming sunlight flickered them open through the blinds of a room that I only had faintly recognized.

The silence of the room made me feel somewhat uneasy.

My eyes darted across the cleanroom, only the pale morning sunlight giving it life and dimension, as I felt oddly comfortable.

My body was perfectly molded into the mattress under me, every curve felt like a puzzle piece fitting into the bed exactly.

I looked down towards the brown comforter that consumed every inch of my body, finding a feeling of ease as my feet danced in the sheets at the bottom of the bed.

I lifted my left hand, and the chipped white nail polish came into my view. I slowly rubbed my eyes with an intense force, as if I was rubbing away the sleepiness from my eyes.

The comforter suddenly became itchy, almost as if it was burning my skin, just as I realized where I was, memories of last night almost felt like a hazy fever dream, my eyebrows furrowed deeper into my face as I wrangled my thoughts through my head.

After the cynical man left the bedroom he had ordered me to stay in, I decided I was going to wait until he had fallen asleep to make my next moves towards freedom.

I waited after I heard his bulky boots head towards the other room which I assumed was his, and heard the door close abruptly. Thereafter, I assumed sleep was the next option for him regarding his deep eye bags and his sleepy persona, but I was mistaken.

The room I was in was silent as I listened closely last night, but his was everything exept quiet. Throughout the night he was continuously making noise, it sounded like he was roaming around the room crashing into things, he never once was silent.

Although I listened, with my eyes wild with adrenaline, I eventually crashed. My eyes began too heavy to hold open, I told myself to keep them open and that he would eventually fall asleep, but I beat him to it. 

My bare legs peaked through the comforter, and my feet landed on the floor as I contemplated my next decision.

I tucked a wild, stray hair behind my ear, and turned towards the wall facing the door that held a window. I had tried to pick it open yesterday, which chipped my nail polish, but had no luck with the paint enclosing the window shut unless I found something to cut through the dried paint.

Outside of the window was a filthy, polluted alleyway that led towards the main road going behind the shop.

If I could get a knife from the kitchen, I could use it to potentially cut through the white paint and the window open, or better yet stab the man in the other room.

I stood from the sinking mattress and began towards the window, my feet finding themselves on the cold hardwood floor planted directly in front of the source of sunlight in the room.

I rolled the dusty blinds up with the string on the side of the window, before resting them halfway through the window, just enough so that I could see the paint that covered the window seal.

I found my eyes quickly darting back to the door, paranoid that the man would open the door any minute. But the house was silent, so I peered back towards the seal.

My dirt stained fingers ran across the surface of the window seal, feeling the thick paint coat over  the top of it that was already chipping.

I really need to shower.

My stare eased towards the view outside the window, where I should be instead of in here.

Even though the alleyway held nothing but the foul filth that spilled from the large green garbage cans, and the occasional muddy puddle filled with more trash, it was better than in here.