The lamp on the bedside table was always on. The bed was always made except when Donna was sleeping in it. Her room was tidy. She tried to keep it looking like it could have belonged to any normal girl her age.
But Donna wasn’t the living the life of a normal girl, nor was her room even close to a normal room. She had a few books to read, a landline telephone that wasn’t connected, and a cellphone with no SIM card or WiFi access. No TV, radio, or clock. Donna was never sure what time it was. The black curtains, where a window should have been, concealed nothing but a blank wall. A small, windowless bathroom was attached to the room. The only door to the room was locked from the outside.
Donna couldn’t remember how long she’d been locked in the room. Weeks? Months? She didn’t know. Twice a day he’d bring in food. Once a week he’d have his way with her. Every other week he’d bring in fresh towels, clean bed linens, and laundered clothing.
This was her world now, at least until she could figure out a way to end it.
Written for Susan Spaulding’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt.