A Chicago PD Au fanfiction | Hollow

Twentynine

-Jen's pov-

I'm alone, tired and I have no hope at all. All evidence point toward me and it's going to get me shoved back into an isolation cell. Right now all I need is a miracle.

I always find a better way to solve things way after they happened. Like, now I know it would have been better to stay with Voight because then I wouldn't have been in this mess.

This box is making me insane. It's in my head, I'm getting crazy, I can't stop thinking about it. I think I'm loosing my mind now.

What makes me the most crazy is that this room reminds me of the cell I spent a long time in. A white square room, nothing in it but a few plain furniture. I was classified as a very dangerous criminal, which led to that they never let me out. I was trapped inside a room, and what made it worse was that I got trapped inside my own mind.

I can't go back. It was the worst time of my life. Spending all those hours in a plain room gives you time to think, think about your life, all your mistakes and what you did wrong.

I get up from the chair I'm sitting on and place my hands on the table to rest my weight on it. I'm breathing heavily to not get out of my mind. But it's hard to stop, I can feel it coming.

I grab the chair and throw it against the wall. It doesn't beak. I grab it again and hit it against the floor several times before I give up and fall down on the floor. I lean my back against the wall and pull up my knees to my chest. I put my head down and start crying in my loneliness.

I never cry because I'm sad, I stopped doing that when I turned 12. If I cry, it's because I'm very angry and I can't do anything about it because I've run into a dead end. That's when the tears come.

Tears are my anger leaving my body and a way to show that I've given up. When I cry it's a sign that I don't know what to do with myself, and the only way to stop it is to give me a solution.

I don't know what to do now. Voight thinks I'm out with Peyton, doing some illegal stuff I shouldn't do, but what I'm actually doing is loosing my mind and giving up all hope inside a white square room.

I don't get to call anyone either, the Feds are very accurate with how things work. They don't want people to interfere with their investigation, neither do they want the entire city to know what's going on. Everything is disturbingly classified and precise.

The door opens and I hear how someone pick up the chair and put it back into place. I don't  bother to look up.

"Let's go" the person says kindly and grab my arm carefully. It's Tom.

I try to pull my arm out from the grip but his hand grips me tighter. His other hand grips my other arm and try to pull me up from the floor but I'm not going to let him touch me. I'm trying to fight back, I kick my legs and try to pull my arms out from the tight grip, but it's hard. I scream, it's even more pain and anger leaving my body.

He has gotten me up on my feet, but I'm doing everything I can to not get dragged out of this room, by him. All I want right now is to be alone.

Another guy comes in through the door and he get into the fight. I get a kick to the hollows
of my knees and I get pushed down on my knees. Before I can react I feel an electric shock spread in my body from between my shoulder blades. I let the pain out through a painful scream. The last tears I have left are now leaving my eyes as my muscles go lame and I get laid down on the floor with a knee against my back.

This is where it all goes downhills, I'm never going to be able to climb this mountain.