Above is the latest blog hop photo prompt. Below is my story to go with it. Enjoy!
She peered through the tiny porthole window, the only source of light for the damp, dark space. Finding the stool under the junk pile in the corner had been last week’s highlight. It lifted her high enough to see out the dirty, circular pane. She had wondered for weeks what she might see out that window, letting her mind travel to the most delightful places.
Like Paris! She imagined herself among the bustle of jovial people, enjoying sidewalk cafes set against the backdrop of classic Parisian architecture, decadent scents of fresh pastries and espresso wafting through cobblestone streets. Yes, the image was charming and warm… perhaps she’d go to school there. Studying abroad would be a great adventure!
It would be the ultimate escape to a brand new life. Away from here. The thought made her smile, something she never did anymore. The glow of daylight that little window provided was a spark of joy when her spirit dropped as dark and low as the dungeon she occupied.
It really was a horrid place for a human being to be held. The rough concrete floor felt cold and harsh on her exposed, small-framed body. The constant blackness made it hard to see anything, but she could feel mud and splintered wood along the walls. The air was dank and chilly and putrid, for there were no utilities for normal human functions.
She had managed to find a pile of junk in the corner of her “room” a few weeks back and had slowly discovered treasures to make her stay more comfortable. The old tarp was a special find; it became both her bed and a robe. The small bucket she found a few days later became her bathroom.
Her captor brought food only once a day along with his selfish physical needs of which she was forced to fulfill. After taking what he wanted, she lay in the dark, staring up at the small ray of light streaming though the little circular portal. Round and round on an emotional carousel, she cycled through anger, hope, sadness, hope, fear, and hope always landing in the same dismal spot.
The tiny window above her head had become her life preserver for hope.
Last week she’d been lucky to uncover the stool, her most valuable find. At first glimpse of the outside world she hadn’t seen in weeks, her eyes filled with tears. Oh, how the light and life of the outdoors was so refreshing! Filtered through layers of grime, gorgeous pinks, oranges, and gold of the morning sunrise offered the promise of a new day—and each day since. The rolling plains of a countryside landscape and farms in the distance assured potential for escape. She vowed to herself that this little glass portal of hope would be her passport to the rest of her life.
Word count= 475