THIRTY-SIX.

Swoosh…

“Argh!” I scream with fright.

Swoosh…

“Argh!” I scream again as a bucket of icy cold water is thrown on top of me.

My lips begin to tremble, my teeth chatter and my body violently shivers.

I open my eyes, squinting as I take in my surroundings.

The sound of footsteps withdrawing from the room creates a silent beat, tap, tap, tap, and the sound of a door shutting keeps me alert.

My head hurts, it's like a marching band is playing live in my head, and my vision slightly blurs every time I try to focus on something.

The room is lit dimly, and the sole source of illumination is a light bulb that is suspended from the ceiling.

Which serves merely to brighten the place in which I am being held, hostage.

Gods! I cannot get a break!

One will start to think that I have grown accustomed to being treated like I am worth nothing.

Disposable without a moment's thought.

The room is cold. The air smells like burnt rubber and rotting timber. I can hear that there is a leak in the ce