Run, Run, Run, As Fast As You Can

Bambi

I woke up in a white room with padding on all the surfaces. It closely resembled a room for the mentally insane.

There was no doorknob. In fact it was hard to even tell where the door was supposed to be. It blended in with the rest of the room perfectly. I only figured out where it was after careful examination of the the padded walls. It did not appear to be possible to open the door from the inside. 

They had taken away my shoes. They had taken away most of what I was wearing previously. I was left in black yoga pants and a tank top. I didn't even have the ankle bracelet anymore. That could be because I smashed it but it was more likely because they were worried that if I had something stiff I would be able to pick the lock. As if there were a lock to pick on this side of the door. They really out did themselves this time. Nothing I was wearing would help me get out. 

I flopped down onto the padded floor and stared at the ceiling. In each of the corners there was a camera pointed down at me. They undoubtedly had a number of guards watching them at all times. 

"I'm going to go insane if you leave me in this room!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. 

The sound of my scream didn't echo or carry the way it was supposed to. The padded walls, floor and ceiling seemed to absorb the sound; as if it were made to keep the cries of children from reaching ears that could help. 

"Sorry, Rosie. We're under orders to keep you in there," said a voice from an unknown speaker. 

The speaker was definitely male. His voice was deep in an almost musical way. It made sense that they would make a guy watch me. They didn't let girls watch me after my, what was it, fourth escape attempt. I tied my poor guard to a tree and left her there with a gag until someone found her the next day. After that there wasn't a girl at the HMH that was willing to watch me. Even if it was only so they could talk to me through a speaker. 

"Well, could you at least play some music? I can feel my brain straining for something to do."

There was a long pause before whoever was on the other side said, "What kind?"

"I don't care," I said with relief, "Just something that won't drive me crazy."

"Yes madam!" came the voice again before the soft sound of classical music drifted through the speakers. 

That's something to listen to. Now I need something to do. 

I pulled my knees up into a 90 degree angle and started to do sit-ups. My muscles started to burn after a while and I couldn't do anymore without feeling like I was going to vomit; so I flipped over onto my stomach and started to to push-ups. When my body refused to do more push-ups I sat down and started to reach for my toes. 

I'm not sure how many hours I spent working out and stretching but eventually the guy over the speaker told me to go against one of the walls and put my hands above my head. 

"Why? Is someone coming in?" I asked as I complied with instructions. 

"Yes," the voice said, "It's about six o'clock at night. We're taking dinner in for you."

"So the lack of a clock in here isn't to further my torture. You're just afraid of the time helping me escape."

"No. We're afraid of giving you anything mechanical. You might shank the person bringing you dinner."

I shrugged, unable to find fault in their reasoning. 

The air stirred and the smell of chicken, gravy and bread filled my nose. I hadn't realized until that point just how hungry I was. When was the last time I'd eaten? yesterday at about noon? That sounded right.