The Annihilator (Dark Verse #5)

The moon

Alone.

Silent.

Locked in.

She sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, shivers racking her slight frame. Strands of hair hung limp over her shoulders. She drew a deep breath, resisting the urge to look around.

She had been shoved into the small closet hours ago, each passing moment more unbearable than the last. The darkness, once oppressive to her young mind, gradually became familiar. The blackness, once a stranger, was now a friend, enfolding her in its arms.

Her arms relaxed. Her legs folded beneath her, crisscrossing on the cold floor, and her fingers began to move. They played with the locks of her hair, over and over, again and again.

She stopped straining to see. She just breathed easily now.

She was three years old.

Locked in.

Silent.

Alone.