Cups are laid out in front of me. But they are empty. My throat scratchy and starting to become a desert, I am desperate for water. Staggering around the confines of the cold concrete room, I find a leak in the ceiling. The algae coated corner slowly dripped drops of sewage water on the floor. I grabbed one of the cups and rushed to the corner, not wanting to waste another drop of precious water. My eyelids get heavier, forcing me into a restless slumber.
"NO! PLEASE STOP!" I jolted awake. It was another bad dream, I guess. My cup of water was full! I hungrily gulped the water, not bothering with the horrid taste as it attacked my taste buds.
Now my stomach rumbled. There was nothing in the room at all, other than my algae patch and dirty cups. I caressed my run cage as I lay on the floor, thinking about how to survive for another hour.
Sardonic laughter rang in my ear. The timing is certainly sublime. Invoking broken tears: they came in scarce drops, the water I had drunk was still circulating through my polluted blood. "Your body is a sanctuary, love it, protect it. Have fun." Those were the last words I heard before I was thrown into this hellhole.
They were the petulant, fractious ones, not me. They were the conniving ones wrought with iniquity, so morbid it was vomit inducing. Their sick thoughts their blood. My sanctuary was now stained with negligence, pure dirt and the shame of lust.
