___________________________________________

The young woman had had enough...

She was at her wit's end. She'd been in this God damned basement for definitely over a week by now, and it was driving her mad. It was more like a dungeon than a basement! No one should have to live like this. Well, maybe the bastard who'd kidnapped, raped and tortured her, but no one else.

She stood up from her spot on the cold cement floor, determination inside of her despite her horrible ordeal. As she had decided a couple of days earlier, she was getting out of here... Somehow, someway, she was going to escape this hell...

She turned all around in a circle, once again examining her surroundings. The window out here was very high up and she would need that footstool to get up to it. Of course, she suspected it, much like the one in the bathroom, was covered by bars. Even so, she had to take this chance - if there were bars on the window, she could still call for help to passersby outside.

There were bound to be some people out there who would walk past the window - weren't there?

She sincerely hoped so...

The asshole had come down awhile earlier to bring her lunch. She'd consumed the entire roast beef sandwich, determined to keep up her strength for the task at hand.

Lord knew, she would need it...

The wheels in her mind were working overtime as she crept closer to the cellar door. She strained to hear any sounds coming from upstairs, as she didn't want to act hastily and alert the madman. If he caught onto her, she was screwed, and as good as dead.

After a few minutes, the young woman suddenly realized the asshole was walking around - he was heading toward where she'd quickly discovered was the direction of the front door upstairs. She'd figured out in no time where it was because after he moved in that direction, she would hear a car's engine starting up shortly after. And then, sure enough, she could hear the motor of the vehicle. The bastard was going out!

She couldn't believe her luck...

She stood there, still as a stone as she listened to the car disappear, positive it was her captor leaving.

Her heart raced and pounded like a kettle drum as she thought about how long to take before she acted. Suppose the son of a bitch returned in only a few minutes? What would he do to her if he came downstairs to discover what she'd done? But then, she figured that if it were to happen, it couldn't be any worse than anything he'd already done to her...

...Unless, of course - he killed her...

Shuddering at the mere thought of such a horrifying thing, she decided right then and there to act - no more guessing games for her.

She practically ran to the small closet several feet away from where she stood, frantic as she located the footstool. She'd been taking it out but placing it back in the closet - in the exact same position and spot in which she'd found it - for days now. She dragged it out of the closet in a hurry, not bothering to close the door behind her, and brought it up to the window.

The woman hesitated for another moment or so as she surveyed her surroundings, her eyes scanning for something to use - for something with which to smash the window.

Damn it... For the life of her, she couldn't find anything strong or sturdy enought.

She stepped up on the stool, her mind made up - to hell with it. Parting the drapes, she peered outside - sure enough, the window faced a street rather than the yard. Shockingly, it did not have bars as she'd suspected. She steeled herself as she reached back with her left arm, then smashed the window with her fist. She let out a yelp of pain as shards of glass splintered into her flesh, but bit it back down, as she had more pressing matters at hand.

As tears of pain filled her eyes, she noticed a man approaching the area. Help was on the way.

"Help me!" she cried out, her voice hoarse after nine days in this Godforsaken place. "Please help me!"