Blood Doll

            The white door is cool when I press my forehead against it. My flesh senses the walls, hardly a yard away in each direction. I tremble with fury and take a deep breath to calm myself. It feels as if I have been here for hours, when in all actuality no more than fifteen minutes have passed. Being strong means shedding no tears, but they are there, prominent behind my closed eyes.

            In the end, I thrust my palm against the door and lean back. Clothes minutely brush the top of my head from where I have collapsed onto the carpet. No sounds from the other side of the door reach my ears. I am certain I am not alone in this place, though. I would have heard as he left. He would not be so cruel as to leave me in here.

            Part of me assumes he would.

            Anger and guilt pulsate through my veins. This is my fault. Had I not been so stupid, so gullible, tonight would not have commenced so. Quite possibly, I would not have been locked in a closet. Fear would not have agitated my system as it does now. I feel I am in a world of misunderstanding and trouble, for my curiosity had been too great.

Reviews

[DeusExMachina]

Quite gripping, with a good use of language. Short and punchy, bu I like i a lot. Keep up the good work!

[VoodooWebs]

Thank you very much :) I feel I really need reviews, of which you are obviously the first in this story.