THIRTY-TWO

DARYL

“You pathetic loser, you look like shit,” that voice, a voice I’d loved before but now sounded like needles piercing my skin. My arms shut up to block the light reflecting in my cell where I sat crouched against the wall.

I could neither turn left nor right for lack of adequate space to do so. It appears as though this particular cell was designed specifically for me. In here, every minute felt like an hour and time passed without being able to tell if it was day or night. No matter the weather, the ground is always wet. I hated small spaces, but I didn’t know which was worse; spending days in this cell or the agonizing screams from the other cells, half of whom were my people – members of Lakewood pack that had managed to get into Dark Wolf’s bad books.

I was covered in my own vomit and faeces, they left me in this cold dark cell with little ventilation to die. The iron bars were made of silver, even breathing was torture. What was my crime? I’d kissed a girl that was supposed