Stolen Time

“We need to move now!” She yelled over the noise of the machinery. “Run through this door and leave them behind!”

“I can’t!” I yelled back.

I held onto my child’s hand as I heard the cruel scoff behind me. When I turned back to look, I saw her for a brief second as the door closed, the locking mechanism clanked into place. My daughter held my hand firmly for a moment, but soon I felt nothing in my hand. When I looked down, she was gone and there was silence. I was alone now, alone on a floor of an old hotel.

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