Im sitting on the cold stone floor and I'm so cold. So, so cold.
.
.
.
I am behind metal bars. Around my feet are shackles with a line of chains along with heavy spheres attached to them. I am sure if I were to try and stand, I wouldn't feel my feet or succeed in standing. When I look down, my skin is bruised. My arms, my ankles, my wrists...
Oh my god my face. I can't see my face and I can't feel whether theres anything wrong with it. Mortified. I am mortified. My fingers search my face for any sign of scars, scabs, bruises. Anything. I notice the soft look to my hands. They managed to remain smooth and unharmed after everything. A slight feeling of something that feels like relief flashes in and out of my heart within a second. I don't think I have time to feel. Not now. Not ever. Emotions are always a waste of time. One can only try one too many times to understand them, they will leave you confused, Brocken, grieving. Changed. They will swarm you with regret and laugh at you like a fool. They will kick you around until your last scream. They are the enemies here.
The metal frame on the big steel door clangs open and food is tossed inside. Stale and hard bread with a side of a singular apple slice. This is my meal. What I eat every day. Meals are always served twice. I quickly try and drag myself on the floor, my legs struggling to move as I reach out my arms. Almost there. With one hard tug I manage to reach the rim of the plate and I grab it. I grab it and bring it to myself. I wolf up the disgusting dry bread and I eat the apple slice. I can't remember why I'm here, but one thing I know is I fought back. That made things worse, left me in regret. The rage and the unwelcomed anger that roared in my heart has brought me here. Emotions. You feel them and use them for granted until you don't. Until the last tick that sets off the bomb.
Boom.
I stare at the floor. I stare at my shackles. My chains. everything within this space is cold. I can't help but shiver slightly. My bed is barely a bed. But even so it stands on all four legs. The mattress is stiff. Heavily uncomfortable, but good enough to sleep on. I'd given up on it a while ago, with my feet practically immobilized it was a waste of strength to try and get on it. I've managed to get my pillow and blanket off of it and since then, I've been sleeping on the floor. The cold stone floor. I throw my blanket over myself and try my hardest to wrap it around my legs, some of the blanket covering my feet and toes. All I do is sleep and sleep and sleep. I sleep until I can't anymore because even that has been exhausting me too. I don't know how. I scrape my fingers along the floor. Tracing shapes, words, anything and I imagine them. I imagine them all because it helps me see them. I noticed it's been freezing up the tip of my finger. I don't stop anyway.
The giant metal doors open fully. An armed guard barges in and orders me to stand up. I try to tell him that I can't, I'm ignored and aggressive pulled up to my feet. A small scream escapes my lips. It hurt my ankles a lot. He takes off my shackles and throws them across the cell. I am dragged out of the room and not given a chance to walk for myself. He pulls me by my hair and I scream. I scream out in pain and try to get him off of me. I get slapped across the face and forced to stand up once more. He grips my wrists with such force I have to trap in the scream that's waiting to be released. He pulls me. Pulls me across the dark and narrow corridor. There is a room at the end of it. He unlocks the door and I'm kicked inside. I fall to my hands and knees as i struggle to get up.
Compared to the outside, this room is exceptionally large and beautiful. I look ahead of me and there is a desk. Behind it is a chair and in the chair is a person. I make an effort to get up so I can see who it is. My eyes are met with a muscular frame, a sharp but smooth jawline, long hair and beautiful lips. Who is this person. I'm amazed as I try not to stare. His fingers are slender and long along with natural contours.
"What are you looking at" He speaks, slamming his desk with his paperwork.
I quickly look away and stumble backwards, almost falling over. It's almost like he has an aura around him. Shiny and blue. Does he? Before I can think any further I hear another thud on the desk. He snaps his fingers at me.
"I'm speaking to you." He barks at me, a flash of annoyance going in and out of his eyes.
I merely look up. My lips are glued shut and all I can think about is when all of this pain will whither away, far away from me. My eyes fog up and I close them. I close my eyes and bring my hands over them. They hurt, too. I can hear almost inaudible yelling coming from the man but I don't understand anything. I cover my ears. I want to scream, I want to scream, I want to scream, I want to scream. I cover my ears and I do. I scream so much I feel every bit of it. It's relieving.
I feel a gentle poke at my forehead. He's there. He's standing in front of me and I'm just looking back. He seems to press a button on the side of his desk before crouching down in front of me. He speaks into something resembling a speaker before turning his attention fully on me.
"Are you… okay." He asks.
His voice doesn't sound nice or worried but it's his eyes. I can see it in his eyes, he's curious. His eyes are so so red and I really look into them. His pupils are such a dark and rich purple. His irises filled with bright red, yet dark. There's a little bit of blue in there, too. A nice cobalt blue. Nicely rimmed with a rich magenta color and his eyes are so bright yet dark all at once. It's too much for me. I look away and there's a small window. He snaps again, obviously trying to get my attention. I ignore it. I don't really care. Finally he sighs a heavy sigh. He gets up and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. I noticed something when he left. Something wagging. I couldn't make out what it was because my eyes started unfocusing again. It's been a very long time since I've seen myself. And when I think about that, I feel the need to pee. I try and get up as fast as I can and look around the room, for a bathroom. None. There are no bathrooms in here, how is such a thing possible. I sit down and squeeze my legs into a criss-cross so tight. I'm trying my best not to pee on the floor.
When he comes back he has cuffs. Hand cuffs. He tells me to get up and then he puts the cuffs around my wrists. I am then guided out of the room and back into the strange corridor. It's an unpleasant sight but it can't be helped, can it? As we reach the end of hall there's another door. Must be where I'm staying. He opens it and leads me into the room, then he takes off my handcuffs. I am so thankful I could almost say it out loud. God knows how uncomfortable those cuffs were.
"…"
"Th-thank you.. for taking off my-"
"Don't sweat it, I mean you don't need them anymore. For now"
He cut me off. I can't believe it, that took me a lot of courage to even say- I shouldn't get worked up over it. After a few questions he asked me, he finally left. I took the opportunity to look around my room. A beautiful top tier vanity, a well designed and grand bed, sleek curtains, a giant closet and on the ceiling was a large old fashioned chandelier. All of this seemed like a waste of space and a waste of time decorating. I didn't need most of this stuff.
I throw myself on the bed and I breathe. My back relaxes and I stretch my legs and arms. It feels good to not be on the floor. At least that's nice.
Inhale
.
.
.
Exhale
I close my eyes… And drift off.