Prisoner
It’s very late at night when you answer a knock at your door. On opening, you see me standing in the little pool of light in the darkness; a young, above average height girl, with shoulder-length dark brown hair and hazel eyes. I’m wearing a pretty dress and in my hands I’m holding a pair of strappy heels and a clutch bag. I’m a bit mud-splattered and bedraggled. “I’m so sorry for disturbing you but I need some help. My car broke down a little way along the road. I saw your light and hoped I...