HUNDRED AND EIGHT

I was weak; I could barely move a hand or even blink my eyes. I was tied to a chair just like before, with dried blood plastered on my face. My head felt heavy, and my ears rang. I slowly began to regain consciousness, and my eyes finally opened.

I was in a different room, and I'm guessing a different location from before. This room was dark, like the last one, but had no window. The only source of light was the white, dim light that kept blinking constantly.

It looked a little cleaner than the last place I was kept, and it looked more like a basement. Because of how closed off the place was, I couldn't tell if it was morning, evening, or what day it was, but one thing was for sure: I had been passed out for some time, sipping in and out of consciousness.

I can’t believe I was caught and kidnapped again after being this close to freedom. My throat hurt so much that I could hardly speak, and my body kept shivering due to how cold the place was. The smell of blood wasn't making it easy,