Forced Motherhood

7- Psycho

I pretended to be sleeping until Heath left the room. I felt his lips kissing mine and fought against the need to bite him again. After I heard the noise of the door's lock, I started moving my aching wrists, trying to break the ducktape. I think I had been straining at it for three or four hours when the tape finally broke, freeing my wrists. They were bruised, scratched, and purple-colored. My arms and shoulders ached as hell, since they had been forced in that uncomfortable position for hours. I took off the duct-tape off my mouth, finally able to breathe again. I realised everything was unuseful: where was I supposed to go?

I searched for a key or simply a pin, something that could help me unlock the door but everything I could find were baby-bottles and diapers. No forks, no spoons, no pens. I could find nothing. To my surprise I learnt he had bought me some lingerie and tampons. Bras were my size.

He had been planning this for a long time.

I opened the wardrobe and all I could see were nightgowns. And, among them, some hospital gowns. I have to get away.