Scout’s POV
"Wake up and eat," a sharp voice called from the other side of the wood.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Every inch of my skin was screaming. I woke up with a sensation that felt like a thousand tiny needles poking through my pores. It wasn't a normal itch. It was a deep, crawling heat that moved under my flesh like fire ants.
I sat up and dug my nails into my forearm. Then my neck. The more I fought the feeling, the faster it spread.
The room looked even more depressing in the morning light. The black mould in the corner seemed to have expanded while I slept. It looked like a dark, fuzzy lung breathing in the corner. Water stains tracked down the walls in ugly, jagged patterns. The air tasted like wet dirt and old rot.
I kicked the thin blanket away and stood up. My skin fel
