Enver Williams is leading on a normal life but that is all ripped away from her when she is taken from her home town.
When Enver comes to realize that there are others like her in more ways than one, she is determined to free herself and her newfou...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I lay awake as the bright light begins to sneak into the room. I can't stop my mind from running all over the place. My mom wont leave my mind, is it possible that our parents are somehow connected or is it just some crazy coincidence?
Why haven't we heard anything from Holloway or his men? Last time I heard from him was when I punched the mirror and that was a while ago. It surprises me that they haven't fixed that yet.
Usually Holloways men are fast to do that but they didn't even remove the broken glass, we had to do that ourselves. The silence from them scares me, should we be worried? Is he planning on something? He told us he had a plan for us but never did anything.
Could Holloway just have meant taking us back here? Was killing Hartley the plan? There's got to be something more he was talking about. What I'm most confused about is why he hasn't sent any of us to the room.
He lets us off after escaping but will throw one of us in there for knocking down a bookshelf? It doesn't make sense. Holloway is a confusing man.
I sigh and turn my head towards Decklin who sleeps peacefully next to me. I'm thankful he stayed with me, but not wanting to deal with the awkward moment when he wakes up, I slip out of the white room. I sit down in the recreation room, trying to search for some answer to my questions.
I know I won't find anything. The only one who could give me what I'm looking for is Holloway himself but he wont give me answers. I know that.
Omar strolls into the room, plopping down onto the spot next to me and slings his arm around my shoulders. "Mornin' Princess."
"Okay we need to think of a new name for you to call me," I decide. "I'm sick of Princess."
"Aww but it's cute."
"Yeah, no."
"Alright lemme think," He rubs his chin like he's deep concentration. "Sugar?"
"No."
"Sweetcheeks?"
"Definitely not."
"Babes? Babygirl? Sweetheart? Angel?Cupcake? Doll? Shawty? Honey- wait no not that one, it makes me sound like an old man." I roll my eyes as he continues to think. "Oh what about hobbledehoy?"
"Uh I have no idea what that is, so-"
"I got it. What about, señorita-siempre-tengo-razón-y-no-me-lo-digas-si-no?"
"I don't know what you just said, but no," I sigh, "Why don't we just go with Enver. You know? My name."
"Yeah, sorry, that's just too boring for me hobbledehoy," he chuckles as he tries out the name. "I hope you understand where I'm coming from sweetcheeks."
"You know what, just stick with Princess," I huff.
"Well I mean if you insist," I scowl at his cheeky smile.
