Benjamin's POV
Day Seven of being trapped down here. Every now and then, someone would come down the stairs and force food and water down me. I didn't want it, but I had no choice. It was turning into living hell, my hope oozing out of me like blood- slowly destroying me. I want to go home.
I began sweating lots, only realising it was because of the heater next to me after my clothes had been soaked through with my own sweat. My hands had become moist like butter and I wriggled them slightly. Only after a few minutes of manoeuvring was needed for the rope to fall down off of my hands onto the ground. I sat there shocked about what had happened and that it had actually worked before quickly untying my legs. I stood up slowly, to allow my legs a bit of stretching time because I hadn't stood up for a week.
After I was sure that my legs wouldn't give in, I walked over to the baseball bat in a cardboard box and picked it up getting a feel for it's weight.
I quietly climbed the stairs, carefully stepping on each step to prevent squeaking. I reached the basement door and with my spare hand I gently opened the door. I stepped out, pushing my back against the now closed door and edged my way down the hallway. With both hands on the bat I inched forward looking for the door.
I walked towards it and reached out to turn the handle...

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I opened my eyes once more to find myself back where I started tied to the pole, but with one difference. Thomas had tied a bandana around my mouth. In despair that I had been caught so close to being free and going back to Grace, Josh and the Toursies as well as my family. I began bashing my head back against the pole, annoyed that I was here. I screamed- getting my anger out, even if it came out as inaudible muffles.
I am done. I am gone. No one is coming for me. Not ever. Hope. Gone.