Normal Enough

I'm not what they say. I'm perfectly fine, trust me.

The silence burns every part of me, making me scream against my will as I bang against the metal door. They think they can just take captive of me without any problems. They are so stupid! I need the air, the freedom to run under the sun instead of turning ghostly white in the empty room. Tears stream down my cheeks, palms turning red from the banging, and I scream as loud as I can for someone to save me. But silence continues to mock me, shredding my heart and hope into pieces. Nobody loves a loon. Especially one who is alone, hungry, and plain old crazy.

Though, that's not me. I'm not a loon. I'm not a loon! I'm not a loon! I'm perfectly normal, you can ask my sister, Chasity. She'll tell you the truth about me. She'll give you proof that I am just a normal nineteen-old with hopes and dreams like any other normal woman. I'm normal! Can't you tell? I have perfectly normal brown hair and brown eyes. My teeth are perfectly straight and my body is perfectly slim. I'm normal!

But the door doesn't open. I'm stuck crying against the metal door with my hands shaking at my sides. There's no hope for me. It's been exactly two-thousand-five-hundred-seventy-six days of captivity. Just about twelve years. Twelve years of my life in captivity. No air. No light. No life. Anything like that can drive a person mad! But I'm not mad! I'm not a loon! I can prove it! Just please as Chasity!

"Chasity!" I scream, clenching onto my sides, slowly falling onto the floor. "Chasity!" I continue on to scream her name and I can feel the cool, tiled floor press onto my cheek. The hot tears fall over my nose, dripping onto the floor. If I can't live normally, in a house with my family, then I'll just have to wait for them to live with me here. In the empty room with the scars across the walls, tallying up the days I've been stuck here. No windows, just walls and a metal door. We'll have food sent to us, never needing to go shopping, and we'll always have each other during the holidays and supper time.

A wavering smile stains my face, along with the tears. I croak a laugh and assure myself that they will come and have supper with me. Then maybe we can tell stories. Tell about the dreams we've had the night before, if we were lucky to have any. Yes, we'll have them! We'll have each other! . . . I'll never be alone.

Author's Note

Do you know the truth . . .?