We were made to walk the length of the whole driveway. I would guess that it was at least half a mile.
By the time I walked up the steps of the Spanish estate, I was exhausted and on the verge of collapse.
I could barely walk—only limp.
Even then, I was still consuming a lot of energy using all of my strength to put one foot in front of the other as best I could.
It was torture, but I had to still try.
My life depended on it.
We were ushered into the large estate, where all your nightmares came true.
I could hear screams of pain and agony echoing throughout the perfectly painted walls. The chandeliers hanging above us, reflected our disheveled and dirty appearance. Our bare feet left dirt behind with every step we took against the marble.
I looked around the place, noticing
