Finding Montana

Knight in the Dark

It's been three days since Damien locked me down in this dark, musky basement. There's a small window at the top of one of the basement walls that lets in just enough light for me to keep track of how long I've been here. Yet the window doesn't let in quite enough light  for my eyes to fully see surroundings. I spent my first morning trying to pry the window open, but the wood holding the glass in place was warped beyond repair. Years of freezing cold winters mixed with warm summers really did a number on this poor, decrepit house. Even if I found a way to brake the glass the opening of the window was far too small for me to fit my body through, so that plan was pretty much dead in the water. 

The last owners of the house didn't leave much behind in the basement. The only items available to me were the ones that Damien provided: a disgusting mattress, an empty tin bucket, and a daily plate of freeze dried food to tide me over.

The good news about this whole situation is that I didn't die the first night which was a huge concern for me since my breathing ability has been less than desirable after the boating accident. My guess is I compressed a lung or had some weird, stupid injury to my lungs/chest area that restricted my ability to fight back against Damien and at the same time has restricted even trying to escape this awful prison. The bad news is I'm still stuck here with my a-hole of an ex.

Damien's always here.  I think he's start making it his life's mission to keep me stressed and on my toes all hours of the day. He barges into the basement at random times, making sure that I know he's the one in charge. I never have a moment to myself unless he wants me to. On a few rare occasions, he brings in a flashlight and shines the blasted thing directly into my eyes, which is an awful contrast to the pitch black I've started growing accustomed to. These psychological games he's been playing are starting to get to me and I can feel my hope of rescue start to diminish more and more.

However, today is different. For the first time in three days I hear the engine to Travis's stolen car start up and the tires start to move in the dirt underneath. I rush to the window, peaking through the small frame affixed just inches above the ground, to see Damien driving off down the road he brought me in on. My heart starts racing as I realize what this means. By running whatever measly errand he needs to do, Damien has given me a small window of opportunity to try and find a way to escape.

I race to the basement door instinctively try the handle. I know it won't open since I've tried the doorknob everyday that I've been trapped down here. I sigh, mentally mustering up as much energy as I can before slamming my shoulder into the door. After about the fourth time ramming my body into the decaying wood, I realize that it's still too study for me to break down with my weakened state. In a last ditch effort I find the bottom hinge keeping the door in place and try to wiggle the bolt out of its socket. After a few minutes of prying, the bolt miraculously loosens and slides out of place.

I take a deep breath, trying to contain my excitement. I need to finish my escape quickly since I don't know how much longer I'll have before Damien returns from his outing. The top hinge easily comes loose and I manage to muscle the door open just enough for me to squeeze through the gap. I carefully place the door back in its original position, hoping that Damien doesn't realize it's been moved, before running through the unlocked front door. I'm going to need every second I can get if I'm going to get away from my psychopathic ex.

The sky is just starting to grow dark from the deep grey clouds clumping up above the tall trees. A freezing droplet falls onto the top of my head and I quicken my pace. I thought the basement of the cabin was freezing, but being out here in the gentle falling snow is so much colder than I'm dressed for. Damien never gave me a change of clothes when we arrived at the cabin, so I'm forced to run through the forest barefoot and in a thin hospital gown. My lungs start to protest the amount of exertion I'm putting on my body, but I don't  slow down. I won't last long in the dark and snowy wilderness of Northern Montana with just a thin, papery fabric to keep me warm.