My family locked me in the basement to give birth. Days later, they returned to find a dark red liquid seeping from the door. As my mother screamed, a voice whispered behind her, “Looking for me?”

of passion. They had calculated my caloric needs. They had curated a survival kit. They had left just enough to sustain my biology, while completely erasing my humanity.

The first three days dissolved into a hallucinatory blur of shivering cold and forced rationing. I chewed the dry bread with agonizing slowness, forcing the rusty tap water down my continue reading …