My life has always been unconventional.

I lost my entire family at a young age. My brother and myself being the only survivors of a terrible car accident. Our only relative that was not in the accident, our mother's sister, refused to take us in and basically disowned us.

We were sent to a state-run facility - not a foster family. I was separated from my brother and never saw him again. I never again felt the comfort of a loving home or a supportive shoulder to cry on. I lived in the facility until I was 18. They constantly put us down; made us feel like we were nothing, and I believed it.

i was already very plain looking and didn't have much to offer anyone. Because of my trauma, I was very much a doormat in life and allowed people to walk all over me. I didn't have much luck in love until a man named John came into my life. He was a lawyer and very wealthy. He said he also grew up in the facility I did, also an orphan. I believed him.

He proposed awfully quick, and even though I wasn't sure how I felt about him, I was never one to use the word "No" with anyone. We didn't even have a wedding, not that two orphans would have anyone to invite to one, anyway. We moved into a large condo and I had everything a girl could want, I guess.

But John was never home. He was always working, always coming home late at night and leaving before I woke up. He didn't like it when I went out alone and we had enough money that I didn't need to work, but I was starting to get very bored. We had a cook and a maid, so there wasn't much for me to do at home. I began to wonder if he was having an affair, if he only married me to appear as if he was a "family man" for his job, but secretly wanted to sleep around. He must be sleeping with somebody, because he certainly wasn't doing it with me. Is this what marriage is like for other girls? I never had a mother or friends to share stories with, to compare my life to. I only had TV and the media's idea of what a happy marriage should be. And mine didn't look like that, either.

One day, the maid screamed from downstairs and came storming out of a very small broom closet. She was cursing and speaking in a mixture of English and her first language, so I couldn't understand everything. But she was very upset and scared. She marched right outside the door and never came back. I asked John about it when he finally came home that night but he just said she had an emergency. The next day, we had a new maid.

Now, this started to really bother me. I went in and out of that broom closet multiple times the next day. It was very tiny and there was nothing inside, just cleaning supplies. I was just starting to think that maybe she took her phone calls in here for privacy or to not get in trouble for talking on the phone during work when I spotted something. Hinges. On the wall. Why would a wall need hinges? I began feeling around them and there was a small space between the wall and the adjacent wall. This wasn't a wall, this was a door. I began running my hands over every inch of the wall, looking for some sort of handle. When I could not find one, I began banging and pushing. Sure enough, it was a door. It popped open when I applied pressure in just the right spot.

I was staring down a small staircase, only about 5 or 6 stairs, that led into a much larger room. I clicked the light on and began making my way down. I didn't even hesitate. The smell that hit me as I descended was overwhelming. What greeted me was a large room filled with cages, large cages. They looked like prison cells and they were bare. As I was staring in horror at this bizarre room I had no idea was below my home, I heard movement. Before I could react, a figure stood up from inside one of the cages. He had disheveled long hair and an unkempt beard. His eyes were wide and crazy, and his shirt was long and covered in filth. He screamed.

I gasped and turned around to run back up the stairs, close that wall, back to my normal boring home and never think about this place again when his words made me stop in my tracks.

"Please! Don't run! I need help!"

I stopped and swore at myself and my inability to say "No,".

"Please! I don't think that other lady is coming back!"

I turned around.

"What other lady?" I asked, but I knew the answer, of course.

"The other lady who found me yesterday. She accidentally found me and she promised she would go to the police! But he probably killed her, too."

"What do you mean 'killed her too'?" I practically screeched.

"That man, he's crazy! He took my wife and I months ago. He tortured us, he barely feeds us."

"W-wife?" I asked, looking around and seeing all the other cages were empty.

"He killed her, right at the start. She couldn't take the beatings. She was too loud. Please, please! My name is Mark, I am probably on the news. I don't know how you found me but you better get to the police before he finds you! He will kill you, too!"

"I-I don't- I mean, I can't."

"Why not?!"

"Because that man....is my husband."

A silence fell over the room. At first, he shrunk back, away from the bars and cowered. As if I was going to hurt him, as well.

"Oh, no! I'm not in on ... whatever this is! I had no idea! I thought he was being a man-whore not doing ... whatever this is! Oh man, this is really bad! What do I do?'

It was as if the severity of the situation finally hit me. My husband wasn't cheating, he was a serial killer. He was keeping innocent people underneath our home and doing God knows what to them before ending their lives.

"You have to call the police! You won't get in trouble if you weren't involved! I can vouch for you! I've never seen you down here before, you've never used the stick."

"The stick?! Oh, no, I don't want to know! Listen, that lady is now gone because she found you. I'll be 'gone' too if I run to the police. Trust me, I do not condone what my husband is doing. I will get you out of here, but I need time to plan and do it right. If I make a mistake, we're both dead, understand? If he was capable of all this right under my nose, then I'm not sure what else he would do. What he would do to me."

"But-'

"It's Mark, right? Mark. I promise I will get you out. We will go together. In the meantime, I will bring you some food and-and a towel! Some ... comforts. Whatever I can before he gets home. But before I can safely get us out, we both pretend this never happened. Got it?"

"Please, I can't do another night in here! What's your name?"

"Molly. Please, trust me. I need to think first. I'll be back."

I turned to go and I could hear his desperate pleas.

"Wait-wait-wait! Molly, please, wait!"

I shut the wall of the broom closet behind me and took some deep breaths. This was so much to process! Am I just as bad if I don't get him out right now? Am I abiding a criminal? How could I have not realized I was married to a psycho?

I went to make food for Mark and grab some things that might make his time in that ... cage, be more bearable. I didn't want the new maid seeing me go into the broom closet and I cerainly didn't want John to see me. Although, he would never come home this early. I carefully retreated back into the room.

Mark was relieved I came back but also still begging for me to let him out now. I almost broke, but I realized I didn't have a key. John must have it. I assured Mark I would get the key from John and the second I did, we were out of here. Both of us.

I started looking for the key and trying to act perfectly normal during the few hours I actually saw John. We did spend Sundays together, if by "together" you mean we sit in the same room doing separate things. But, this Sunday, for the first time since we married, I did not mind it at all.

I began spending my days with Mark as the weeks went by. I had been so lonely, that I loved having someone to talk to. As I kept bringing him food and other necessities, he began to trust me and open up to me. He told me about his life, and his wife. He started telling me stories and interesting facts he knew. After a while, I could almost forget he was a prisoner in my husband's twisted human zoo. That he could be up for slaughter any day. I tried to block that part out.

But just when I was starting to have some very confusing feelings about Mark, he began to beg for his freedom again. I felt bad, I had been so happy to have someone to talk to, that I almost forgot to look for the key. But, if I let Mark go, I might not ever see him again. Let alone get to spend time with him. I think he realized something was up when my expression fell when he reminded me to get the key.

"You are upset about helping me?"

"No, no! I just- I just really enjoy talking with you. I was just thinking that I'll probably never get to talk to you again after we leave."

"why not?"

"Well, I - I just assumed - Wait, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Molly, we're not going to stop talking. Unless you want to. But I thought leaving here is the beginning. Of our new lives together."

I was beaming. There were butterflies in my stomach. Was this what love felt like?

"I will get that key tonight." I promised.

When John came home I began to take a closer look at him. I had searched the entire condo, top to bottom. And no key. I watched him come in, put his car keys on the table, and head to the bedroom to get changed. The key was not on his regular key set, I had already checked. He must keep it on him at all times. To get what I wanted, I had to give him something he'd never asked me for.

I had never initiated sex with John and he never brought it up or tried with me, either. Not even on our wedding night. But, I crept into the bedroom as he was changing and began rubbing his back.

"W-what are you doing, Molly?!" He asked, blushing and shocked.

"You must've had a hard day at work, shouldn't a wife help her husband relax?"

"You don't have to-"

"But I WANT to!" I shouted and attempted to seduce my husband for the first time, and hopefully the last. I felt nothing for this man that never took an interest in me, that never took me anywhere, that never even asked me anything about myself. Talking to Mark made me realize what love could feel like, and it was not settling. I wanted to be with Mark. I loved him even as a scraggily man locked in a cage, I would love him as anything, anywhere!

john passed out right away after and it hadn't taken very long. I had hoped my first time would be with Mark, but this was a small price to pay for freedom. I found a set of keys in a secret pocket in his pants. I hurried downstairs as quietly as I could, trying to hold back my excitement. I came running into the room Mark was locked in. He shot up quickly when he saw me come in so late.

"Did you get them?" He asked, hopeful.

I nodded and went to open his cage when I heard my name being screamed and shouted upstairs.

"Oh, no!" I said. "Give me a moment!"

"No! He probably found out!" Mark reached his hand out.
"Give me the keys and I'll get help! I trusted you when you asked me, can't you trust me back?"

"Umm..." I thought for a moment, scared if he had the power instead of me that he might not wait for me. He might not go with me. But, I guess that's the risk, that's how I'll know. If he comes back for me or waits, then he really does love me, as well.

"Okay. Here. But, before you go, I love you, Mark. Please don't leave me here with him."

"Never." He grinned at me.

So I gave him the keys and then went running back upstairs. Upstairs where my husband was frantically looking for me.

"I'm right here!" I said, peering back into the bedroom.

"Did you take my keys?!" He demanded.

"What keys?" I asked.

There was a pause and a terrifying moment where he just stared into my eyes, like he was trying to scan my face for information. Or burn it out of me with his stare.

"Molly..." He began.
"What do you know?"

"Nothing." I said at first.

There was a loud clang of metal coming from downstairs and I realized, in my haste, I hadn't shut the wall to the secret room.

"the jig is up, isn't it?" He asked.

Finally, with the confidence I didn't know I had, I smiled back at him.

"It is." I said, finally.

"Molly!" He shouted, not with anger, but pure fear.
"You don't know what you've done!"

"I know my husband has been lying to me and murders people! So I think I know exactly what I'm doing! How could you, John? How could you have people locked under our house?"

"He's a criminal, Molly!"

Dead silence.

"What?" I finally said, meekly.

"I'm not what you think I am! Look!" He pulls his wallet up and opens up to a badge and an ID card. FBI. Undercover.

"What? I don't...I don't understand."

"I'm sorry, Molly. Our marriage was a sham. I needed someone to be my wife while I was in deep cover- I am on a case, Molly! I'm not a lawyer, that's my cover story. I'm trying to solve some of the most horrific murders this area has ever seen. Mark is my suspect, I had him here trying to get answers. He has committed some of the worst atrocities I have ever seen in my life. I'm sorry I lied to you, Molly. I was going to come clean and start over with you. I was told not to get attached, but I was actually falling in love with you, Molls. I promise, I could never murder anyone!"

"But uh, what about his wife? He said you tortured them and killed her!"

"What wife? Mark isn't married. He killed his girlfriend and his unborn child still inside of her."

"Oh, God." I felt dizzy. I was going to throw up.

"It's ok, Molls. Just give me back the keys. Then I can explain everything. I have all the case files. We can start over! Molly? Molly ... Molly, why are you looking at me life that? Where- where are the keys, Molly? Where are the keys?!" He began to panic. And so did I.

Before I had a chance to respond or react, I saw Mark. Through the mirror above the dresser. He was grinning, ear to ear. And holding a gun.

"I promised I wouldn't leave without you, a promise is a promise!"

I always knew I was going to die of a broken heart.