Today's OneWord: Locked

The door was locked. The gate was bolted. The windows were all latched. I sat in the center of my study, alone, my hands shaking under the blanket that Lester had thrown over me. He had told me not to move. He had told me that he would return when everything was safe. When the coast was clear. It had been four hours since he had shut me in that room. I could hear my own breathing. It was like hearing the death rattle from my own quivering lungs.