To catch up with parts 1-3 first, click on the links below.
By day four, it became clear nobody could hear me, nobody who would help me anyhow. The man, or demon may have heard me. He wasn’t going to help, he was the one who put me in the box and was taking pleasure from toying with me. When he opened the lid, I was given a small amount of hope which was quickly snatched away. I realised he did that on purpose. I was just a play thing to him. I knew what happened to play things. The player quickly got bored, cast them to one side and moved onto the next one. I wasn’t going to be cast aside. I didn’t know how I was going to escape his clutches, but I would find a way. My brain was too exhausted to come up with a plan though.
I found myself dragged into a state of restless dreaming. I wasn’t sure if the demon was opening the box again and I was tearing off his arm again, or if I was just reliving the nightmare. I tried to test whether it was real by doing something differently. I let the dismembered arm smother me with a cushion, instead of fighting it. It disappeared again, but I was convinced that small change of doing things differently meant it was really happening and not a replay in my nightmares. The demon would open the box again to taunt me further. I would tear off his other arm and beat him to death with it. It would be strangely satisfying. I hoped he wouldn’t wait too long. I don’t know how he was making it happen, but the box was shrinking. I couldn’t stretch my arms out as far as before.
Day four, still in the box
But can’t waste air by shouting
Nobody hears me anyway
And sleep sneaks up on me
I dream the box is shrinking
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