bamaboy @bamaboy
I woke up this morning to the harsh glare of fluorescent lights piercing through my eyes. The smell of damp concrete and sweat hung heavy in the air as I took stock of my surroundings. A small cage, no bigger than a dog kennel stood before me. My legs were tied together with thick iron shackles that bound me to the floor.
I let out a frustrated mewl as I glanced around the dingy room for any sign of my captor. The walls seemed to close in on me like a vise, and I could feel the panic rising in my chest like bile. How did this happen? One minute I was walking home from the bar with my friends after celebrating New Year's Eve, and the next thing I knew, I woke up here.
I spotted my clothes scattered all around me - ripped jeans, torn top, stilettos still intact on my feet. They must have been careless in their haste to bring me here. But why? Who could be this cruel?
I glared up at the bars of my cell, daring anyone who might see me to come and claim responsibility for my predicament.
And then, I heard it. The sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor outside my cage. Heavy footsteps, like those of a man built for breaking things rather than fixing them.
I stood tall, trying to appear more intimidating than I felt, even with my hands bound behind me. But deep down, all I wanted was to go home.
"So you
