Unbreakable

Chapter Twenty-Three - You Won't Break Me

Trigger warning - *Physical violence and torture*

The small red blinking light on the video recorder was the only thing I could focus on. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. I began counting each little blink in increments of five's to pass the time. The burning sensation that was spreading throughout my body from being tied down to the chair had long passed. My body was numb, other than my wrists that felt like they were being shredded with barbed wire from the ropes that had dug into them over the last twenty four hours.

One, two, three, four, five. I knew the paralytic agent had worn off, I could feel what little strength I had return to every limb in my body. Avery and Alison hadn't been back in the last few hours and I didn't know if I should feel relieved or anxious about that. I knew they were trying to get into my head, leaving me tied to this chair with nothing but myself to look at in the mirror, the only changing constant being the flashing red light. One, two, three, four, five.

I was familiar with this tactic, hell I've used this tactic countless times in interrogation. Leave the person of interest alone with nothing to do but look back at themselves through the two way mirror. Letting them psych themselves out, and start sweating it with each and every passing moment they sat there in solitude. Such a simple thing, sitting in solitude, but very effective. Everyone thinks they wont be the one who breaks, that they'll be the one with the mental capacity to withstand it. They wont be the one to fall for such a simple tactic, but they're all wrong. That's the thing about people, every single person has a breaking point. It's just about finding it, giving them those small nudges in the right direction that leads them to break mentally. One, two, three, four, five.

You would think a persons willpower was stronger than being left alone in complete isolation from everything and everyone else, but the truth is, its not. Physical pain as excruciating as it may be, it passes. Sure it hurts for awhile, but its only temporary. Mental and emotional pain doesn't subside like the physical pain does. Mental anguish is what I call the silent killer, you're trapped in your very own prison that is your mind. You yourself put yourself into that prison but you can't pull yourself out of it. Every thought becomes crippling, your head gets so loud that you can't even pick apart which thought is screaming the loudest. You think if you can just make it to somewhere quiet that it'll all stop, but it doesn't. The quiet feeds the mental anguish, without it the prison that is your mind can't keep you trapped. Keep you drowning, so close to coming up for air but not being able to reach it, if only you could swim just a little harder, a little faster. You're so close to breaching the surface but you don't ever make it. One, two, three, four, five.

Human beings are social creatures by nature, we crave the affection and attention of others, even if we don't know what to do with it. We're not made to be isolated from others. We crave stimulating intellectual conversation, we crave physical touch, we crave the presence of individuals who make us feel alive. While left to our own demise we self destruct, self sabotage, and recede further into the prison that is our own minds. One, two, three, four, five.

"Are we interrupting? We can come back later." Her silky voice bounced off the walls inside the cabin. My eyes followed the source of that sound and found Alison leaning against the doorway of the entrance to the den I was being held captive in.

"Water." I choked out in a hoarse whisper. My throat felt like it was constricted, my voice almost unrecognizable from how raspy it sounded. Alison studied me carefully before grabbing the bottle of water off the side table and slowly tipping it back into my mouth, keeping an appropriate safe distance from me this time around. The water droplets moistened my lips that felt dry and cracked, a few stray droplets running down my chin, reminding me of the small cut I had on it. The stinging sensation from the cut was a welcomed feeling, the pain reminded me that I still felt something.