Page 13 of Unbroken

My legs shuffled, and a chain rattled. I did it again and whimpered when I realized there was something solid and unmoving latched around my left ankle. I could feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes, but it became clear after several foggy moments, maybe minutes, that I couldn’t cry. My body was so dehydrated that I couldn’t form tears.

That’s when it all came barreling back. Every memory was suddenly there like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I sucked in a sharp, ragged breath with the impact and sat up, reaching behind me for something to lean against. The chain rattled and echoed through the space as I moved, mocking me and reminding me that I likely couldn’t move far.

The brick wall behind me was damp and cold, but it did what I intended and held me up while I tried to slow my heart rate and labored breaths.

A bone-deep, terrified shiver racked my body, and a sob broke free from my dried lips. The pain radiating through my body was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. Pain for Hazel and Luke. For my friends that I let this happen to.

I’d made so many mistakes. I’d done everything wrong, and now I had no way to fix any of it. Trying to protect everyone, I’d ended up doing the opposite. They were all in danger because of me.

I reached forward, preparing to test the strength of theshackle around my ankle when there was a creak to my left and the dark room was drowned in light. I threw my arms up and slammed my eyes shut, cringing away from the sudden brightness.

But as quickly as the light appeared, it was gone. So quick that I didn’t get a chance to take in my surroundings or figure out where I was.

Darkness flooded back in, and I choked down the cry that lodged in my throat. To my left, somewhere in that never-ending darkness, footsteps approached. The rhythmic thud every second sounded like the person was walking down stairs.

I held my breath as the footsteps neared and tried to scoot closer to the wall. But there was nowhere for me to go.

The steps stopped, and I could feel the person’s presence lingering to my left. So close I could reach out and touch them. So close I wanted to retreat into myself and never appear again.

My entire body tensed, trying to prepare for whatever was bound to happen next. My heartbeat was deafening in my ears, and each breath I took pierced my lungs.

Something scraped across the floor and hit my left shackled foot. I shied away from the sound—from whatever it was that hit my foot—but nothing else happened.

There was a moment of complete silence before the steps began to retreat, scuffing against the floor and heading back the way they came. In complete darkness, I had nothing else to focus on and no other clues on where I might be. So I listened to their steps move farther away and prayed they never came back.

They ascended the stairs, slower than they had descended them only moments earlier, and with each sound in the opposite direction, a small, very small amount of relief flooded my panic-ridden body.

But the sound stopped abruptly. And the pure darkness closed in on me.

“Welcome back,” a deep voice said so quietly that I almost didn’t hear it. “I missed you.” There was silence, and I thoughthe’d left until he said, “She was right—you’re so broken already, but not nearly enough. Not yet.”

And the light filled the space once again. Only I was more ready for it the second time and quickly glanced up where the person—a man based on his build and his large shoulders—was surrounded by the light flooding in from the doorway at the top of the stairs.

I couldn’t make out much more than that before the door closed, and the darkness enveloped me. But it only lasted a few seconds until a new light blinked on above me. I blinked several times, rubbing my eyes and squinting at the room around me.

A new, swift wave of panic and terror ripped through me. The intensity of which made ragged sobs tear up my throat.

The yellow-tinged light barely illuminated the room, but it was enough. Enough for me to take in my surroundings.

Bare brick lined all four walls and were caked in something that I guessed contributed to the damp, earthy smell. I spotted two windows—one high on the opposite wall and boarded up with weathered plywood. The other was on the shorter wall to my right and was covered with a shaggy black curtain.

In that same corner, there was a toilet missing a seat and the lid over the tank.

I could feel the phantom sensation of tears I wanted to cry running down my cheeks.

To my left, there was an open staircase I wasn’t surprised to see. Each step was made of wood that appeared to be as old as the house and was severely warped. At the top was a door. I had to squint a little, but I could tell it was much newer than anything else in the dark space.

A pile of old furniture and empty frames sat in the empty space beneath the stairs. Scanning for anything else in the pitch-black corner of the room, I caught sight of something reflective.

I braced myself before I slowly lowered my eyes. Fastened around my left ankle was a large silver cuff. It was attached to a thick, braided chain that was anchored to the wall near my hip.

I tugged at the metal, scratching my skin with my nails as I tried to pry it off. But it was of no use. I turned around and refocused my efforts on the chain. Wrenching and pulling at it, a defeated whimper spilled from my lips when it didn’t give at all.

So focused on the cuff around my ankle and being chained to the wall, I completely missed the tray laying near my foot until I inadvertently kicked it.

The small glass of water on the tray nearly tumbled over into the bowl of Cheerios beside it. The only other item on the tray was a thin peanut butter sandwich.

I stared at the tray of food for so long my eyes went painfully dry.

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