CHAPTER 19

I open my eyes and try to move my arms. Alas, this is the cruel tradition of my nightmares: the wrists are tightly tied to the metal bars of the wrought-iron headboard of the old bed. Hands are extremely divorced to the sides, shoulders are already buzzing. I know that this is only a dream, that this is only a nightmare, but my lips whisper by themselves:

- Mother! Mommy! - I sob, the picture floats before my eyes, and hot tears painfully disturb the weathered skin on my cheeks.

“Please, please, I want this to end! I beg! No need! Let go! RELEASE! Anything but NOT THIS!!!" I want to scream.

This is one of my worst nightmares. Alas, in recent months he has been my frequent visitor. A dream about a small fragile girl tied to a bed, half-sitting on an old mattress and waiting for her kidnapper. Oh, the irony of our notion of monsters, this is a normal middle-aged man with a receding hairline. He seems kind and helpful.

He “even” feeds and washes the girl, takes her to the toilet and read
Continue to read this book on the App

Related Chapters

Latest Chapter