"I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms but carri...
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Isolation
Complete and total isolation. I've been alone before, but this was an entirely different level. The level at which your brain starts playing tricks on you. Three days. I've been in this hell hole for three whole days with little to no human interactions. A man named Fat Joey has been bringing me food and water once a day. He brings me either an apple or a piece of bread, which really isn't any different than how I was eating before getting locked up in this shithole.
I lost all concept of time being in a pitch black room twenty four-seven. I had no idea whether it was morning, noon, or night. I felt completely out of sorts. It's a weird feeling, not ever being sure if it was day or night. The only way I knew how many days I had been locked up was the fact that I was being fed once a day. I reeked. I hadn't showered or brushed my teeth, and I was forced to use the bathroom in my cell. It was completely disgusting. I didn't think I'd ever get the stench off.
After the second day I started hallucinating. Seeing people who were long gone, people who still lived and that I had let down. Some hallucinations would berate me, others would encourage me that this wasn't so bad, that I could make it. I honestly wasn't sure if I could, I know I'm stronger mentally than I am physically, but still, the human brain can only handle so much isolation. I still had four days to go, and when you're completely alone in the dark that feels like an eternity.
I could understand the hallucinations, that's normal, but what wasn't normal, was the fact that no matter what I did I couldn't stop the thoughts of Negan, being so close to me, telling me I was his, and his invigorating scent. Every night I've been in this cell I've been plagued with thoughts of Negan that were anything but hate filled. I convinced myself it was the solitude, that I was just lonely and the special attention and close proximity that Negan bestowed upon me was a welcomed feeling. After all, it was only natural to crave human interaction. But the dreams I've been having about Negan are beginning to border sexual, which was extremely unnerving. Although, I can't say that I wouldn't still be having these dreams if I wasn't locked up.
I could hear the sound of boots hitting cement down the hall, which wasn't unusual, but they stopped in front of my door and the jingling of keys let me know they were coming to see me. But Fat Joey had already been by to give me my piece of bread and water, so I had no clue what this was about.
The door opened and I was instantly blinded by the in-pour of light from the hallway. I shielded my eyes and could tell it was Negan standing in the doorway. Shit-eating grin and all. "Jeeeesuuuuuus. You...look shitty. Smell pretty damn ripe, too." I glared up at his towering frame and said nothing. "I know I said you'd be in here for an entire week, but hey. I'm a nice guy, and I'm willing to let you out of here for good behavior." He paused, taking a few steps into the room. "So, what do ya say? You ready to follow the rules?" He asked.
