My husband, Henry, locked me in our house for four days, claiming it was for my jealousy over Grace’s upcoming birthday.
When a fire broke out, I called him in desperation.
“Henry, there’s a fire! Please, I need the key to get out!”
His reply was slow, almost dismissive. “Don’t think you can ruin Grace’s birthday with this. Once the party is over, I’ll let you out.”
Panic surged through me as I tried everything to escape. The windows were sealed shut, the water supply was cut off, and my phone signal was blocked.
As the flames grew closer, I clawed at the windows, my hands raw and bleeding. Smoke filled the room, and I coughed violently, struggling to stay conscious.
I picked up the phone again, but the call dropped before I could get through to anyone. My strength was fading, but I refused to give up.
...
My body was weak, my stomach empty. By the fourth day of being locked inside, Henry had restricted my meals. This was all because I had accidentally forgotten to feed Grace's dog, which later ate something harmful. He thought I was jealous and had done it on purpose.
With tears in her eyes, Grace said, "Why didn't you take better care of Snowy?"
"If you dislike me, I'll leave."
Before I could explain, Henry frowned and crossed his arms. His voice was cold as he said, "Megan, you're unbelievable."
"Apologize," he demanded.
I shook my head, "Henry, I did nothing wrong. It was an accident. Why should I apologize?"
I had taken care of Grace's dog many times before, even getting bitten and requiring shots. Last night, I was just too tired and forgot to feed it. I never imagined it would eat something harmful.
Henry’s gaze hardened. "You always find excuses. Grace's birthday is coming up. If you can't control your jealousy, then stay here and don't come out. This way, you won't ruin her party."
I reached out to protest, but Grace suddenly slapped me. Shocked, I stepped back as Henry grabbed my wrist. "Until you admit your mistake, you'll stay here."
I had been locked in a suburban villa, unable to leave. The fire started unexpectedly, and the windows were tightly sealed. After days of little food, I was too weak to act quickly.
I picked up the phone to call Henry. "Henry, where's the key? There's a fire"
Henry’s voice was calm and detached. "Megan, it’s only been a few days. You can’t handle it already?"
"When you forgot to feed Grace's dog, did you think about how much it suffered?"
"Today is Grace’s birthday. Don’t ruin it. Once it’s over, I'll let you out."
"Henry, I’m serious! There's a fire! Please, help me!"
But he only sighed. "What trick are you trying now? Haven’t you caused enough trouble?"
In the background, I heard Grace's voice. "Henry, come cut the cake!"
As the party sounds filled the call, my voice trembled. "Please, Henry..."
The smoke choked me, and I let out a stifled cry for help. The call ended suddenly. I tried calling emergency services, but the signal had been cut off.
Frantically, I attempted to open the sealed windows, but they wouldn’t budge. My hands ached, but the smoke thickened around me. I clung to the hope that someone might find me in time.
