SHE'S ALIVE

Jake lied. That is what she keep thinking.

He never help her, but he laughs at her with so much mockery as she lay there on that table. It was made of wood, it was cold and damp by saltwater that makes her skin itched and recoiled. She wanted to scratch them with her nails, the thought to scratch them until they bleeds drove her sanity at the edge, because she couldn’t. Both of her arms and legs are tied. The ropes are tight, and she knew the marks it would have left once they loosened. She could feel it biting across her skin, and it sting.

She bit her lips. But funny how she did not cry. Perhaps, her tears are already dry. She was tired of bawling her eyes out, and calling for help, when none came from how much had she repeated those words. Are they monsters? Are they borne from evil? Maybe, maybe not. She lost care.

She already felt numb.

“Well well, look who’s here today.” The familiar voice she learn to get acquainted from uttered.

It was Jake. She knew it was him. His footsteps