The last ray of light escaped as the door closed shut. A large innocent pair of eyes blinked in the dark, trying to adjust. It was cold inside and dead silent. Every sound that came from beyond the closed door was amplified, giving her a scare now and then.
She stared hopefully at the door. Silent tears of grief and fear poured down her face. "You have to be brave, honey." the words spoken by her mother before she locked her up ringed in her ears, "It'll be alright in a while."
Pray to God. That's what they had taught her in school. In moments of happiness, sadness or trouble, pray to God. So she crawled up to the idol of faith that was kept inside a small temple in that room and uttered a small, self made prayer, a cry for help.
The consoling voices inside her head subsided as the voices outside grew louder. Shouts, screams, sobs, sounds of hitting and things being thrown; sounds that made her start with fear. A chill ran down her spine.
Hope left with every breath she took. Tears dried up. With each passing moment in the dark, all thoughts calmed and all fear left. The darkness, peace, enveloped.
The door didn't open. God never spoke. Darkness became a friend and faith was forever lost.