I threw my head back against the wall, wincing as it made a hard contact.
It's been two days.
The room was dark, with only one lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were worn out bricks which made the room like it was about ready to cave in. The air was smelt of mold, which I tried not to breath in - but there's only so many minutes you can go without breathing before you die.
And I didn't want to die - not yet, at least.
There was table up against the other side of the wall with something on it and a blanket covering that something. Donovan has yet to tell me what that something is.
I licked my lips, which didn't help being that they were dry and cracked - my tongue was also dry and rough. They only gave me a couple of sips of water per hour. I have yet to finish the water bottle I started when I first came. I sighed, staring at the item that was on the table, wondering what it was. The mafia's leader had made it out to be very important, adjusting it so that it was staring right at me.
Yeah, I was kidnapped by a mafia that called itself Diablos. And they wanted something from Zach. Because, apparently, kidnapping me would help them achieve in getting what they want. And Donovan was part of this mafia.
The wooden door creaked open and in entered Donovan. He had the water bottle and gestured for me to take some sips. As I did, my eyes strayed towards the door. Donovan noticed and pulled on my hair, whacking the side of my face against the wall. "Don't get any ideas." He left me again, slamming the door shut and locking it.
It's not like I could, I rolled my eyes, my hands are cuffed and the leader made it very clear yesterday. I cringed at the memory of what happened yesterday, staring at the dried up blood on my white sneakers. They're not white anymore, I snorted. They're more like white with red polka dots.
Hmm, I stretched my legs, they're actually kind of pretty.
I closed my eyes, hissing as they burned from crying so much yesterday. Yesterday. I shook my head, and winced as it made contact with the wall. Again.
Yesterday was the day I spent crying and getting beaten up. Not much, but just enough to draw blood and cause some bruising. Why; I have no idea why they're beating me up or what they want. But I refuse to cry anymore. I always cringed when I watch those movies and see those girls cry when they're kidnapped or beaten up. Always thought they were pathetic. It's not like crying would get you of there.
I rolled my eyes, the only season I cried yesterday was to say goodbye to everyone I knew. I mourned and now I'm done. But it doesn't mean I'm not going to try and escape if I get the chance. Not doing so, would mean I want to do die.
