text: One year one room one me The room is a rectangle with two 10 feet long walls and two 15 feet length walls. There is one window about 7 feet up from the floor on one wall and a sky light right in the middle of the ceiling. There is a door that that has been locked for what seems like forever. I have a twin-size bed, a night table, a small lamp on the night table, 5 changes of clothes, a sink and a toilet like those in a prison cell, one cup a area rug, 12 books, 12 notebooks, 2 pens, and 1 pair of moccasins slippers. There is a TV built into on of the walls but it only comes on three hours a day and if I have done something that is considered to be bad it doesn’t come on at all. About 11 and a half months ago I had gotten a call from a friend asking me to go check on one of their clients. My friend is a social worker and lives about 3 hours from my old home. They had gone on vacation and while away gotten what seemed like a distress call. Since I also use to work in the field of social services I agreed. I had gone to the address and knocked on the door. A smartly dressed middle age woman had answered when I rang the doorbell. I introduced myself and explained that are mutual friend was very concerned about her and had asked me to drop by. The woman sigh and invited me in. She offered me some teas and explained that a year ago she had lost here daughter. I could see the tears staring to well up in her eyes so I accepted her offer and came in. She prepared the tea and explained that her daughter had left home to live with her boyfriend. After they had been together for a while, she had gotten pregnant. When she told him, he had become enraged and shot her. When the police arrived, he had taken his own life. I was feeling a little overwhelmed. The woman had gentle patted my hand. “You know dear she would have been about your age if she had lived.” That was the last thing I remembered. I blacked out. Sometime later I woke up in the god forsaken room. I was sure she had drugged me because I had a killer headache. Of course, I banged on the door. Tried everything I could thing of to open it but no luck. I had yelled to I couldn’t yell anymore. My phone and purse were gone. Everything I had worn had been removed and replaced with one of my new outfits. I had studied the room and when I found the note books made a note of the day and time I had arrived. That how I knew that I had been in here for almost year. Somehow once a day, when I was asleep, food would be brought into the room. At first, I thought that drugs were being but into the food so I stopped eating but I still became sleep. Then I released that some form of sleeping gas was released into to room. I could mark day and night by the window and sky light as well as the seasons. I never heard anything expect when the tv came on. I was always some kind of history or national geographic series. I had read the book a number of times. There was the works of Shakespeare, a bible, works of Edgar Allen Poe, Sherlock Holmes, some Jane Austin, and the rest were books of poetry. God how I wished for a newspaper or a magazine even the national enquire would have been nice just so I could know what was going on in the rest of the world. I had developed an exercise routine to keep myself fit. It also helped me work of my anxiety. Physically exercise in the morning, mediation in the afternoon, and running in place before going to bed. There were so many things I longed for. A hop bath or shower instead of washing up in the sink. Some junk food and candy. I think I might of sold my sold to the devil for a drink. I kept trying to figure out why know one was looking for me. Making up stories of what the woman had said when the did try to find me. I wondered what she had done with my car and other personal belongings. I had developed a theory that she was pretending I was her dead daughter and she was trying to keep me safe. In two more days, it would be exactly one year since this event had occurred. I decided to reread my journals. I was astonished to see how much I had changed; my beginning entries has ben filled with anger and resentment. I had one note book for each month and was coming to end of that last one. I had no idea what would happen when the last one was filled with writing. Would I get more. Or would my lie be ended. I had written a number of entries about that in my more morbid phase. Over the most recent month I had become very reflective of my own life. I had written about what I want to do if I ever got out of this hell hole. Something was different today, The Tv hadn’t come on at its usual time. I knew I had done anything consider bad because I had a whole list of what that was. Yelling, trying to get out or escape, Destroying or damaging things in the room, harming myself. Or not taking care of myself. I started hearing a strange sound like a large truck. I got closer and louder. The I could hear people yelling. I jumped onto the bed and remand very still. I sounded like there was a machine digging. The I saw the door shaking, then a loud crash and the door fell down in to the room. My eyes blinked and filled with tears but I couldn’t speak. Two police officers, one male and one female were standing in the door way. They walked slowly into the room speaking in soothing tones. I can’t for the life of me remember what they said. The gentle helped get up of the bed and walked me out the door. As I looked back, I saw that from the outside the room looked like a bunker with most of it buried in the ground. I was taken over to a waiting ambulance and rushed to a near by hospital. After a thorough exam a psychiatrist came in. He asked how I was doing and said all of my physical test had showed me to be in good health. He explained that my friend had received a letter from the woman who had taken me captive. She explained that she was only doing it to protect from the evils that could befall a woman, much like what had happened to her own daughter. She also explained that she original planned to do all this to my friend. She closed the letter with directions to my location and a suicide note. I became very still and aske the psychiatrist why had no one tried to find me. He told me they did but when they had gone to the woman house, she had told them, “Oh yes lovely lady. She did stop by but told me she was on here way to visit relatives. We tried contacting all of your know relatives and know of them had heard or seen you. When we went back to the lady’s house, she was gone. You friend never gave up looking for you. I took a deep breath and a nurse walking in with a large milk shake, a double whooper, and some onion rings. That when I lost it. I started shaking and sobbing until the gave me a sedative. One year one room and one me.