The Walls are Closing In

Micheal POV:

I knew it was almost midday, I could tell by the crowd in the police station which was thickening.

The claustrophobic sensation of being in a locked facility was starting to hit.

I started pacing the length of the tiny holding cell. The cold handcuffs confining my wrists, I knew they purposely kept on to make me suffer even more. I finally sat on the hard concrete floor with sweat trickling down my back.

To make life worst, I couldn't shut out the annoying sounds of People shifting about in the waiting room, officers discussing cases behind the glass, phones ringing, doors buzzing, keys jingling, electronic doors clicking open, the quiet murmur of dispatchers speaking into headsets, officers interviewing a suspect, the rattle of a suspect’s handcuffs as he answers questions.

I would have plugged my ear with my fingers but there was a limitation to how far apart my fingers can go.

But despite the causes of frustration emanating from varied sources, I was worried sick ab