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It's been six days. Six days since I was sedated. Six days since I saw Vic. Six days since I saw that man. Six days in complete isolation. I've barely slept or eaten. I could feel myself going crazy with every hour that I was in here. I was riddled with guilt and concern about Vic. Where was he? Why couldn't we see each other? What had I done? I had messed up, that's what I had done. I snapped and I lashed out. I had no idea what went on after I passed out. Vic could be hurt for all I know, or worse.

"Please come back," I whispered in a pained voice.

I put my hand on the cold metal opening and curled into a small ball on the floor. Why won't he come back? I needed him. I can't do this without him. The only reason why I lasted so long in here was because I had him here to support me, and now I was afraid I'd never see him again. Every day I would sit here just waiting for him, and every day I became more convinced that he was gone.

I ran my fingers over the contours of the metal, brushing over the lines and dints like I had a dozen times before. I was willing it to open. I needed it to. Mostly I just needed to know. If he's gone then I need to know to put my mind at rest because right now I'm imagining him lying on the cold ground with a lifeless look in his eyes. I'm imagining him having the same fate as those boys in the photos. It would be all my fault if the worst happened to him. I caused a scene and started a problem. I should have just kept obeying that man and then maybe Vic wouldn't have been confronted with him. Who knows what happened while I was unconscious. They could have fought and Vic could have been killed.

I moved away from the opening and weakly crawled over to the mattress. I sat on it, leaning against the wall. I looked around in my paranoia. I swear I heard sounds. I heard talking or banging. Whispering. One night I sat here for hours utterly convinced there were ghosts down here. The day after that I thought that every sound was the police coming to rescue me. I was wrong on both accounts. There was nothing there. I was simply alone.

It was late out, I think. The sun had gone down many hours ago. I had the light switched on because I couldn't handle the darkness anymore. I was in silence, but not for long. The screeching of the metal sheath opening alerted me in an instant. I was sane enough to know that I was slowly losing my mind, so at first I thought I had imagined it. Maybe I wanted it to happen so bad that I conjured up the sound in my head all by myself

"Don't lose your mind, Kellin," I whispered to myself.

I could see it though. I could see the opening. Seconds later the bars lifted too. I didn't make a move or a noise. What if there was a new boy in there? What if Vic was taken and a new boy was in his place? I wouldn't be able to handle that. It would entirely be my fault. I could hear movement on the other side, but no talking. I held my breath, unsure of what to do.

For six days all I've wanted to know was where Vic was, and now I have the opportunity to find out, but I was so scared for the answer. I needed to know though.

"Hello?" I called out in a strained voice.

"Kellin?" Vic's familiar voice spoke back at me.

"Vic?!" I said urgently and stood up.

My heart was pounding hard and tears welled up in my eyes. That was Vic's voice! He's okay! He's alive and he's still here. Happiness flowed through me the second I saw him crawling through the opening. He stood up and our eyes connected; both reflecting each other's relief.

"Fuck, thank God," he said breathlessly and not a moment later we were wrapping our arms around each other in a tight hug. I was basically holding on for dear life. So many emotions were mixed in my head and heart. I was just so relieved that he's okay and so full of joy knowing that I'm not alone. I turned my face into his neck and held back my tears.

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