The Tombstone

Plans

She sat by her window, like she usually did. Imagining, and thinking of the freedom that she had just dreamt of, and how badly she wanted it. Now. Wanted it to be true. But the dream didn't just consist of that. There lied something else: that monster. The monster was him. Her captor. It was his voice. And that made sense. To her he was a monster, and in her dream he turned out to be an actual monster. A literal one. But what he said to her made no sense.
What did he mean we were the same? The same person? That we knew each other. That I knew him.
He's wrong! I only know him from this dreadful experience! We are NOT the same! I am not a monster. I am the victim in all of this. No. I am not like him.

But, right after that thought occurred in her head, it almost triggered something. A memory.
But, but. I helped him bury that girl. I helped him kill her in a way. I contributed. Maybe I am as bad as him. Am I? Of course I am! I helped cover a crime. A terrible, horrible, deadly, scary crime at that.
I am a monster. I helped him. Am I just as bad as him?
What's going to happen if I am found? Will I go to jail too? I did help him cover his crime. I was involved. I aided him. I could be charged. I am as bad as him! I am like him!
And then, with bad thoughts occurring, the other part of her mind kicked into action.
STOP STEPH! You need to calm down. No, you are not like him. He killed her! You saw her wounds. He killed her. Not you! He threatened you into it! He offered you things that you thought could help you get out of here! You were thinking of yourself. You were trying to escape. Trying to get out. The police have to understand that. You have been under his control all this time. They have to understand that you were trying to get out. That you were also responding to the threats he put upon you. You are not a monster. You. Are. Not. A. Killer.

  Her eyes began to droop as she felt tired. Exhausted from her thoughts in a way. But she didn't want to sleep. She felt she slept too much throughout the day. She enjoyed that most days though. For if she slept the whole day, the day would go by faster. When she was awake she found time crept by at a very slow rate. Feeling like minutes were hours. And the hours, years.

  However that day felt different. For some odd reason. She didn't want this day to go by fast. She wanted to look outside and enjoy the view. Even though the view was only the same group of trees, and sometimes, at very rare times, an animal would appear. She once woke up to find a deer right outside her window, almost looking in. Looking at what type of animal was locked up inside, like a zoo. But the rolls were reversed.
Another time, she saw a deer and two babies. Little Bambi's. The cute, little fury Bambi's with white spots sprinkled onto their coats. And those single animals brought her hope, or built onto the hope she already had.
Rabbits, birds, and squirrels also came across throughout the months. Which she also enjoyed seeing, and watching. She remembered when she was younger, how many times she asked her mother if they could get a bunny. She loved them. But her mother's answer was always no. They both were allergic to different types of animal hair, cats especially. But Steph didn't care, for she knew she would still love him dearly and spend time with him, no matter how allergic she was to him. But their allergies weren't severe.

  Her head began to bob to her shoulders and then back up as she caught herself.
Don't fall asleep. Don't fall asleep.
She kept repeating to herself, for reasons she didn't exactly know why. All she knew was that she didn't want to fall asleep that day. She wanted to stay awake. It was nearly four'o clock in the afternoon by that time already. That day felt weird in a way. Almost like she was waiting for something. Expecting something to happen. Only she didn't know what. A strange feeling washed over her as the day seemed to drag on. And on.

  Why can't I be like the animals out there in the forest. The ones who wander around and seem to enjoy their life? Why can't I be like that? I know I haven't been here for a very long time, but it feels like I have. I feel as if I've been here for years. My entire life. It seems like day-by-day, my life before disappears, dissolves. Like it never happened. All that's happened to me is this experience. Will I ever get out of here? Is this my life now? What if I tried running away too many times now, and he won't take me out anymore. There's no way out of here! I'm trapped! Possibly forever. I feel like some days, I have such high hopes of escaping, and others, like today, I feel like there is no hope. No hope of seeing my friends. My family. My mum.
Oh.
My mum. Her face is more clear now, since that day when she spoke on the news. What if that night, the night I ran away, the last thing I said to her before I left, was the last thing I ever get to say to her. My last words. The last time I saw her. When I was angry with her and ran out. Ran away from her. And right into the clutches of a monster. A sick human being.
I don't care that she lied to me. I should have talked to her. Talked it through instead of walking away. Running away. I didn't mean to hurt her like that. And now, that could be the last thing she remembers me as. An angry girl that ran away from her problems. Who wanted to get away.
No. Surely that isn't true.
And as thought after thought exploded in her mind, she became exhausted just thinking any longer, and drifted off into another deep sleep.