My head pumps with pain. My eyes weigh largely and my body feels strapped to a rough surface.
My throat stings with dryness and the growing urge for water. As I tilt my head I find pressure added as my whole body pushes back,
I crack my eyes open, spilling them everywhere. My breathes shift heavy and two pairs of twisted eyes meet mine.
"What is this" I almost squeak, my voice caught deep in my throat.
I shut my eyes. Count my heart, the beats.
1 2 3 4
"Michelle" gasp.
I hold my breath and widen my eyes in fear. I tighten my fists to my sides and feel the new material covering my body:
It's rough and cheap, nothing compared to my dress.
"What the hell is this" I growl. My eyes burn against the man who sits with his body cautioned.
He stays silent. Sitting in his chair next to where I lay with short salt and pepper hair.
I rest my head into the uncomfortable cushion and find a long back cage wall behind me. What the fuck is this.
"Your in prison Michelle. You've been charged with 5 counts of murder" he says. His voice is so calm I have to get a second look at him to make sure.
I almost choke on my words. "Wh-, I don't understand" I sob, shaking my head with fear. He doesn't care. He writes down on a charted paper and keeps his eyes focused on it.
His left hand runs over the paper with the tightly gripped pen like it's his life.
After a couple of minutes my tears have hydrated my mouth and his body is fully attentive to me.
"I'm going to take the restraints of. This is your cell, A34" he instructs. I watch with amazement.
I haven't killed a single soul.
As his chair spins around to retrieve something, my emotions shift to anger. Nobody cares to answer my questions and God does that eat me up.
"If you don't take these restraints of right now I'll fucking kill you" I threat. I don't back that. I can't kill him, I wouldn't be able to. Even if my life depended on it.
He sighs gently and lets his head low into his shoulders. I pull my entire body against the restraints. It shackles and makes much noise.
I wince loudly and wait for his cooperation to arrive. It doesn't though.
He turns with a stiffened look on his face. In his hand a small needle rests between his fingers. "I'm going to give you this, in about 2 hours you will awake in your cell" scream.
I scream against my raw throat. Tears build in my eyes and blur the sight of the needle connecting to my skin.
I plead and fight but it's no use.
I'm in no control of myself.
YOU ARE READING
Our love
RomanceLove isn't always meant to be in the eyes of others. Michelle has seen to many types of love. She admired the love of her two parents, she hated the painful love her father treated her with after a changing event. She most of all loved how much Emil...
