Cold tiles pressed against my skin, a reminder of the winter night outside. I sat, bewildered, the lock on the bathroom door refusing to budge. Margaret’s voice echoed dimly in my mind, her dismissive tone as she walked away, leaving me trapped.
I banged on the door, calling out for Daniel. My voice was hoarse, my pleas raw.
“I’m not dealing with this tonight,” he had said earlier, a sigh following his words.
I didn’t understand how he could just leave, knowing I was stuck.
Time moved sluggishly, each minute feeling like an eternity. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stave off the creeping cold. My breath hung in the air, a visible manifestation of my isolation.
I thought about calling out again but hesitated, the futility of it pressing down on me. The house was silent now, save for the occasional creak of settling wood.
In that small space, every noise was amplified—the ticking of a distant clock, the hum of the refrigerator far off in the kitchen. Yet, none of these sounds brought comfort.
I shifted, trying to find warmth in the cramped confines of the bathroom. My fingers were stiff, the chill seeping into my bones.
I wondered if Daniel would come back, if he’d realize the severity of the situation. But hours passed without a word.
The weight of his absence was heavier than the cold. I tried to focus on anything but the numbing air, tracing patterns on the floor with my finger, my mind wandering to places it hadn’t gone in years.
Would he regret this? Would he even care? I shook my head, forcing those thoughts away. They wouldn’t help me now.
Silence reigned, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the tap, a monotonous reminder that time was still moving forward, even if I felt suspended in this moment.
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