Amaryllis – Bibi Sesay #5
Rejoicing, I look into the broken wand and see what I can use.
I pull out the circuit and bite off a wire.
I use the wire to pick the lock on my other wrist. I feel a sharp stab of pain with every movement in my hand, with every movement of my joints.
It takes me almost ten minutes to unlock the cuff, but it finally clicks, releasing my hand.
I work quickly to remove the cuffs on my ankles and get off the bed.
I make a beeline for the rope and start to make a knot like my Pops taught me when we went camping.
After securing the noose, I reach for the bedside drawer and start to pull it towards the foot of the bed.
I intend to use it as a lift for me to fasten the noose to the hook on the ceiling and then later as a stool to aid my suicide.
I struggle to get the drawer to the right position as my hand continues to throb. I stand on the drawer and get to work fastening the noose. I secure it and then take a look around to make sure that I didn’t forget anything.
I’m free. I did it. All that’s left is to place this noose around my neck and jump off the drawer. I can do this.
I’m finally free.
Just as I’m about to put on the noose, I hear a voice in my head say, “You’re free.”
Yes. I’m free. I already acknowledged that.
But it comes up again. “You’re free.”
I don’t understand what is happening, but it won’t be a stretch to say that I’m hallucinating. I’m hungry, thirsty, sleep deprived, and in a lot of pain.
But then it hits me.
I am free. I fought to get myself out of the manacles that my captor put on me and now I’m free. I fought, for the first time in my life I fought for something I wanted and I got it.
Why would I use this freedom to plan my demise? Why would I use this newfound strength to take my own life?
I have nothing to my name and no home to return to. I am nobody and I have no one. But I am tired of living in fear and suffering daily abuse. This needs to stop. I cannot do this anymore. I have to get out of here, just not in the way that I originally planned.
I get off the drawer and start looking around. What can I do to get the door open? I walk towards it and try to pull it, but it doesn't budge. I can’t pick this lock because of course the asshole made sure that the lock is reinforced.
Think, Lisa, think!
If I can’t open the door, I must do something that makes him or someone else open the door from the outside. What would make someone break down a door? The only people who could possibly break down this reinforced door are firefighters because they have the equipment.
Wait. Fire. That’s it!
If I set a fire, then someone will call emergency services and they could find me.
But how can I set a fire without burning myself alive?
I look around the room, and I see a small vent in the wall where the bedside drawer once stood.
If I set a fire, even a small flame, maybe the fire alarm would ring, and someone would call the authorities.
I look for a lighter because there are candles everywhere in this room.
I search through the drawers and find a small one hidden in the back along with some alcohol wipes and other cleaning supplies.
I take the lighter and alcohol wipes and look around for something to burn.
I do a 360 scan of the room to find a target.
Leather, silicone, wax, fur. I see one pair of fur-lined handcuffs and my heart skips a beat.
I rush to grab it and head for the vent.
Once there, I use the pieces of the broken wand to unscrew it, and I get to work setting my flame.
I squeeze some alcohol from the wipes onto the fur and use the lighter to set it ablaze. I place it on the vent sill and wait.
Five minutes go by and nothing happens.
Ten minutes and still nothing. I’m running out of kindling.
I need to make a bigger fire. I rush to grab the leather whips and crops and make a pile. It’s a big risk to set a fire like this because I don’t know if I will survive long enough to be rescued.
But one of two things will happen. Either the fire triggers the alarm, and someone finds me, or I die in the flames and my earlier desire is fulfilled. Whichever happens, I know I will not go down without a fight
The flames rise like a small bonfire in the room.
The smoke is being carried through the vent in thick wafts, but a significant amount still remains in the room.
I moved to the other side of the room to give myself some space from it to buy some time, but the smoke is rapidly filling my lungs.
The thick clouds coat my lungs making it hard for me to breathe.
I cough incessantly, my eyes burning and watering.
I must hold on, just a little longer. I know this will work. I know someone will come for me.
I’m feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen, so I lie down on my side as I watch the flames dance.
For a split second, it looks like a person dancing in the fire.
A woman, with hair as thick and lush as my own.
Dark brown skin, like mine, glows golden in the flames.
She bears a radiant smile full of love and hope as she dances with the swirling embers.
“You are free,” she sings to me. “You are free, my child.”
Yes. I am free. I am finally free.
Tears of joy and sorrow fall to the ground where I lay. I can barely breathe as the smoke continues to poison my lungs, but I feel lighter than I have ever felt. I close my eyes and let my mind take me to a world where I am dancing with the beautiful golden-skinned woman in the flames.
Then I hear the loud ringing of the alarm bell.
I. Am. Free.