See? It’s me there in the bed.
Not relaxed. Not sinking into a downy nest. Not pulling over a comforting cover.
My nerves jangle. Nervous for the unknown. Terror at the sound of a key turning in the lock.
The restraints were broken. I tell myself that. Attempting to comfort.
But not knowing when.
What they’d managed to do before I escaped.
That was what scared me as I lay in the bed.
Leather straps chafing at ankles.
Pinched skin against my wrists.
Twisting flesh as they held me tight. An embrace of restraint rather than one of delight.