~ NYSSA
My assumption was that Henry was being a bit dramatic.
I ignored the bowl of oatmeal and spent most of my time scouring every inch of the basement, trying to find a way out. I did not try to pace myself, I figured it was only a matter of time before he would walk down the stairs with a new bowl of food.
I was wrong.
A few hours passed and my stomach growled loudly. My limbs ached from exhaustion, and every step felt like torture, but I glanced at the white door, convincing myself that it was only a matter of time.
I drank water from the bathroom for energy and sat in bed, waiting, but he never came.
The oatmeal had dried on the floor by now, and tiny ants gathered around, picking pieces of whatever they could find.
I turned on my side, keeping my back to the door and I forced my eyes closed. At least the hunger would not bother me as I slept.
