Flash Fiction Contest- Beggars Can't Be Choosers

Someone was knocking at the door. Sheila stopped struggling against the ropes that bound her to the chair to listen, hoping it wasn't her mind playing tricks on her. The knock came again.

She redoubled her efforts, straining against the ropes and screaming around the gag in her mouth. She knew the muffled sounds were not strong enough for anyone outside to hear. Frustrated, she rocked the chair back and forth in hopes of knocking it over and breaking it.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she pushed with tiptoes. Come on, Sheila, you can do this, she silently urged herself. You have to! You might not be able to convince him to tie you to the chair instead of the bed again!

One more push sent the chair toppling over backward. Air whooshing out of her chest, Sheila lay in a crumpled heap, her injured hands screaming. Finally catching her breath, she pulled at her wrists once again, ignoring the searing pain. Happy to note one of the chair arms was loose, she tugged until the arm broke away from the chair seat. She used her newly freed hand to push the gag down and off her mouth.

"Help!" she yelled, hoping whoever was at the door would hear.

Using her broken hand and her teeth, Sheila worked at releasing her other wrist from its bonds. Trying to keep her mind off the beating that had resulted in her hands being broken, she choked back bile and worked diligently to free herself before her captor returned. He had not returned before dark on the previous two nights, but Sheila was taking no chances. She didn't believe she could handle another night of torture.

Finally, the knot loosened. Sheila used her teeth to untwine the rope and then forced her mangled hands to work at releasing the binds that tied her feet together. Growing woozy from pain, she had to stop and regroup. Another knock at the door was all the incentive she needed to push through the pain and free her legs.

"Help!" she yelled again. "Please! I'm in here!"

Pushing to her feet, leaning against the wall for support, she took a tentative step forward. Immediately her left ankle gave out on her. Dropping to her knees, Sheila tried to crawl, but ended up face first on the hard ceramic tiles when her hands refused to hold her weight.

Sheila barely felt it when her nose broke after hitting the floor, so accustomed to pain after the last few days. After wiping blood from her lips, she rested on her forearms and slowly inched her way toward the livingroom.

Half way across the livingroom floor, she heard boards on the porch signaling that whoever was out there had turned to leave.

"No! Don't leave!" she begged, pushing herself faster.

"Hello?" a man's voice called through the door. "Is someone in there?"

"Yes!" Sheila yelled, pulling painfully to her knees at the door. "Please help me!"

Insistent knocking and rattling of the doorknob followed when the man tried to open the door.

Sheila used both hands to twist the doorknob, and then pulled the door open in a rush. Bright sunlight obscuring her view, all she saw was a man's silhouette.

"Please!" she pleaded, trying to push to her feet.

The man reached down to help her up, stepping inside the door. "I love it when a woman begs," he whispered, shutting the door behind him.

"No!" Sheila gasped, staring in horror at the face of her captor.