Erin frowned when she stepped out of the shower a few mornings after finishing the scarf for Alex. She had already started a new project, this time for Penelope, and she had been thinking about how she would block the shawl when it was finished, since she didn't have those supplies yet. She supposed that she would have to beg John for them, since that had always been par for the course with him and her incarceration. But that wasn't what was occupying her thoughts that morning. Instead, it was the fact that she couldn't smell breakfast, as she usually could when she finished washing.
Drying off as quickly as she could, Erin dressed hurriedly before heading out into her room and looking over at the door. There was nothing there waiting for her, and she tried not to panic as she went over and opened it, peeking her head through as best she could to see if John was coming with her morning tray, but there was no sign of anyone in the hall, or at least no one that she could see. Looking down towards the floor, she saw a shadow of a basket, and her frown deepened as she contorted her body so that she could fit her arm through the food door in order to grab at the handle.
Slowly, she pulled it upwards, finding the movement awkward, given that she couldn't move in the way she wanted in order to easily bring it into her room. Inside the basket was a box of Poptarts, a box of granola bars, and a good number of her favorite candy bars. This made her even more uneasy, since she get the feeling that John wasn't going to make an appearance that entire day. Sighing, she brought the basket over to the table and set it there as she took out the boxes of food that she'd been left, finally finding an envelope with her name on it near the bottom. Sighing, she picked it up and broke the seal, pulling out the single sheet of paper contained within.
If you're reading this, you figured out how to bring the basket int your room. And I'm certain that you're smart enough to realise that this means that I'll be gone for a little while. I was called away on business, so you'll be on your own for the rest of the week, and part of next. I know that you hoard some of the wrapped food I've provided, and this will add to that store until I return. Just, make certain that you ration what I've provided very carefully. I'd hate for my plans to be for naught, after all. Oh, and don't freak out about your scarf being gone. While I won't deliver the letter that you wrote to our dear Alex, I will make certain that it ends up in her mailbox. Until I'm back, do your best to keep on living. Because this existence of yours is such sweet torture for you and me.
Even John's words were smarmy, and she shuddered a little as she set the letter aside before opening the box of granola bars and taking out a package. She didn't know if there would be enough food in the basket, even combined with what she'd managed to hold back, to keep her adequately fed for five days, but she knew that she would somehow make it work. It might just take some creative thinking on her part. When she'd finished her meager meal, Erin got up and washed her hands before filling her water bottle and heading back to the table, neatly stacking everything back in the basket before grabbing out her pad of paper and a pen, picking up on another letter to Alex.
It was hard to remain falsely optimistic in this letter, since she felt her hopes plummet at the knowledge that she was completely alone. If there was a fire, she would die down there, with no one the wiser that someone was being held captive. It was a horrible thought, and she shuddered a little as she tried to keep from crying as she wrote. Finally, she felt like she had actually managed to get her thoughts down on paper, and then she was carefully removing the letter from the notebook and placing it inside the folder that she had started for Alex. A part of her wanted to write to David, but she was unable to find the words to say to him. Letting out a frustrated breath, she instead closed the notebook, leaving it on the table, since she knew that John wouldn't be interrupting her days for the rest of the week and so he wouldn't snoop to see what she had written. Pushing herself to stand up, Erin went over to her project chest and pulled out one of the easier projects that she had on needles, knowing that she needed something to take her focus off the fact that she wouldn't have any contact with anyone for a while. And while she knew that Stockholm Syndrome was a bullshit theory based off shoddy police work, a part of her still acknowledged the fact that she had all too quickly grown accustomed to interacting with John in this hellhole he was keeping her in.
Try as she might, Erin had to give up working on even that simple project as she was crying too hard to keep even simple knit and purl stitches looking good. An exasperated breath expelled from her mouth as she tossed the project onto the table and shoved herself into the corner of her bed, pulling the quilt over her legs before setting the laptop on her thighs and hugging Tabitha's plushie to her chest with one hand as she turned the laptop on and waited for it to be ready to use. As usual, the first thing she did was check to see if there were any open WFi connections, and a strangled gasp caught in her throat when she saw that there was an unlocked connection.
Her hand shook badly as she maneuvered the mouse over to the connection and clicked on it, hardly daring to draw in breaths as she waited to be denied access to the outside world. "Well, fuck," she murmured when she connected, and Erin hugged Tabitha's plushie all the tighter to her chest as she tried not to get too excited about having access to the internet. Still, it was hard for her to open the browser that was on the desktop, and as she waited for it to load, she wondered if she would even be able to access any websites. John was brilliant, and this would be a brilliant powerplay for him – to give her a glimpse of hope, only to have it cruelly snatched away. Through each denial, her spirit waned, until she finally found out that she was able to watch YouTube. Clicking a random video on the home screen, Erin let the personality speak as she tried to see if she could leave a comment. Erin's shoulders dropped in resignation when she saw that she'd have to sign in to do so, but she didn't have an account, and to make one, she'd have to have access to her email, which was one of the blocked websites. So while she could take information in, she couldn't reach out to make a connection, and the feeling of defeat threatened to overwhelm her once more. It would be nice to listen to voices other than her own, and to find out current events, but she still wanted to be able to somehow get word out there that she was alive. It was a problem that she knew she would somehow overcome, even if she didn't know how, so long as she kept her access to the internet. She had to keep hold of that thin thread of hope for as long as she could, or else she knew that John would win, and she would never allow that. Because she was going to live and thrive, and see John buried in the ground, just like she supposedly was, and then she would move on with her life. The life she was always meant to have, with her David.