I can’t remember the last time I saw the sun.
Within the first few days, my perspective shifted from fear to solace. The musty, mildewy smell of the unfinished basement had become a comfort. Cool, rough concrete against my skin kept me grounded to the world. Exoskeletal companions easily replaced the human beings who no longer looked for me.
In the end, she was right. I was easily forgettable.
Now, the once-appealing promise of sunlight warming my skin has twisted and turned into a threat, far more than the glint of the knife that coerced me here in the first place.