Prison Chic #1st book of the Chics series (EDITING)

Chapter 25

Joanna was half alive, half dead. She didn't know which one was closer. She hoped it was death, then this torture would come to an end. 

She looked down at her hands; they were bloody from all the attempt of trying to get out of this vile hole. 

She rubbed her face with her bloody hands as she thought, ‘Why did I have this stupid condition? Why couldn't I outgrow it? Why couldn't my brain get around the idea that as she wait here, her mother’s claws would never sink in her back as she pulls her up; or that when she gets out of this narrow place, there wouldn't be her father strangled to death on the floor that was filled with her mother's blood? Why can’t she stop hearing her mother’s drunk, sick voice?

“Joanna, where are you?” her mother would sing, promising dreadful things. The anticipation was horrifying.

And why, oh, why did she have to blame her self for what happened to her parents over and over again? 

She grabbed her head between her hands and ruffled through her hair viciously, trying to get the dark memories away. 

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!" She tried to scream but all what she managed was a chipped sound. Maybe because she'd been doing that ever since she got out of the shock of being inside here. The last thing she remember hearing was Julian’s voice as he called her name.

She opened her eyes and looked up toward this dump's lid, which was closed and had small ports that would let scraps of light in. She closed her eyes again before she lowered her gaze, not wanting to look at the very close walls around her.  

She opened them again, maybe this time she would get used to the situation. 

Instead, her breathing quickened as her panic attack started again. 

"Get me out of here, PLEASE!" She sobbed and pleaded over and over again, but there was no answer. None.

She lost track of time because to her, this felt like it was going for years and years.

She just wanted to whether and dies.

“Don’t you dare speak of giving up on life that easily, Kid!”

She remembered someone telling her that in one of her life’s falls. She was stoned that night that she couldn’t remember this man’s face. But because of him, she never thought of ending her life again. She learned how to fight through it. But now, she was just so, so tiered of all of it.

She buried her head between her knees and crossed her arms over the back of her bent neck.

It’s so cold. It’s so dark. It’s so damn frightening.

Untie, I am so scared, Joanna thought silently.

"JOAN!" Kevin called once he reached the fence in front of the hole. 

"You, unlock the fucking door!" He ordered one of the guards who followed him after he stormed out of the food hall when Julian Drake told him where Joanna was.

"But sir, he didn't finish the 24 hours!" The guard told Kevin who instantly grabbed him by the collar and banged him against the fence.  

"This kid has CLUSTROFOBIA! EVER HEARD OF IT?" Kevin spat at the horrified guard.