I use it to wash clothes for my family at home. My stomach tightens. I don’t hate my mother. I love her. I should have told her that often, even if she rarely told me. Tears hurt my eyes, but right now I couldn’t fall to my knees. I had to think of a way to escape. My first instinct was to try the door, but I brushed it off because it was too stupid. Firstly because I remember it was locked. Plus, if it’s not locked, I’m sure I’ll run into the kidnappers face to face. The look on that guy, the guy named Jair, his eyes flashed through my mind and a shiver of terror ran down my spine. Instead, I tiptoed over to the curtains and pulled them down. The window was boarded tight. I could barely hold back a cry of frustration. Running my fingers around the edge of the wooden plank, I tried to pull it up, but I couldn’t. Damned.
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