Elias

I slowly descend the concrete stairs, holding a metal tray in one hand. Behind me, the heavy basement door closes with a dull click, and the familiar silence fills the room again. My ashy hair is tied back in a low ponytail, but a few strands have escaped and fall onto my face. The basement still smells of dampness and old wood; I place a plate of hot food and a glass of water on the table, then briefly linger my gaze towards the bed. Eleven PM I quietly say, pulling out my watch. It's too long for me. Usually, I don't let situations like this drag on, and I know perfectly well how they should end. But this time, something went differently, and I still don't understand why. I sit down on the chair opposite and lean back, continuing to silently stare ahead. Over the past day, I've returned here too often, though each time I convinced myself it was just a necessity. I don't know what's wrong with you I finally say. But for some reason, it's becoming harder for me to see you as just another victim. I pause briefly before calmly adding, So don’t make me regret that I decided to keep you alive.