“Too tight.” she whispered. “I can’t breathe. I can’t see! Too tight!” Her labored breathing echoed in the tiny room.
She looked wildly about. Nothing was clear under the dingy bulb that swung loosely on its chain overhead. Her movements caused the shirts and jackets overhead to catch in her hair. Spasms of pain shot down her back.
“Too tight!”
She scrabbled and tore at the skin of her face and it split like ribbons under her sharp finger nails. Her blood soaked the collar of her filthy blouse as her breathing became ragged.
“Finally free.” The words dribbled from the corner of her mouth as her final breath rattled from her chest.
The locks clicked open on the tiny closet and the man in the mask looked down at her sodden body. He cursed her, “Damn it. Now I need a new one.”
Jon Gray Lang.com 