I hear the vibrations of my phone across the room.
I stare at it…
unable to move.
Someone is calling me. Someone is checking to see if I’m alright.
I am not.
I’m a prisoner.
I am a looseleaf pinned under a paperweight.
My lips are cracked from thirst, though the intense need to urinate tells me I’m not dehydrated. I breathe a shallow breath and laser focus on my phone, dancing from the vibrations on the counter top. I furrow my brow…
I glare across the room, not blinking…
I am unsuccessful in my telekinesis.
My phone is not any closer to me when it stops its hopeful buzzing.
My connection to the outside world is 50 long feet away…
I catch myself mid-sigh, and freeze any movement my body was thinking of making.
The weight on me is becoming heavier by the second, but I know if I move even a little I’ll be inviting disaster.
Surely someone will come looking for me…
But my inner voice knows better, “No one ever comes, Jenni. No one ever comes…”
I will my pinky finger to wiggle slightly, but it has lost all blood flow and does not respond.
I am done.
My to-do list is a memory.
My bladder is losing it’s hold.
My arms will turn blue and fall off.
I will never eat that bag of nuts two feet away.
I am helpless…