My head was glued to the side of the walls and my hand numb with immobility. For years, this was how I had laid each night.
Except for today.
I sat in my usual position on my blood stained concrete prison. And my eyes were cast down to hell- wishing I was there.
But this time my long, ragged breathes were accompanied with the rhythm of footsteps. This was new. However, I didn't look up. From all my time in isolation, I had no further interest in the human form. My desperation was to be executed and leave this miserable world.
Until I heard more footsteps. And a strong gruff voice speaking heavy and fluent German. Despite being born in Cochem, Germany, I had been robbed of my native language and fed some sort of broken English.
I finally looked up and saw a slim, frail man flung into my dungeon.
Then I met your blue eyes.
YOU ARE READING
200 DAYS
Science FictionI was never afraid of death. I couldn't be. How could I be afraid of it when I'm as good as dead?
