(MAYA)
Consciousness comes to me in slow, gentle waves. The softness beneath me feels too comfortable to be right. I stretch my arms over my head, reluctant to open my eyes just yet. The bed is soft, the mattress dipping in just the right way. I turn to my side, slipping my arm under the pillow to provide added height.
Wait. Mattress? Pillow? My eyes fly open.
I'm in my bedroom. The morning light filters through my blue curtains, painting the walls with a soft, golden glow. I sit up, disoriented. The last thing I remember is being outside, wrapped in a blanket, another one underneath me, wearing a sweater for additional warmth. I hadn't been able to sleep. Something was clawing at my insides, the four walls of my bedroom, which I had once considered my safe haven, sending my mind back to that small cell.
It was a final act of desperation when I walked out of the cottage. The cold, crisp, October air was a relief. I could breathe.
I felt free.
