~ LAYLA ~
She is f*****g gone.
I unfold my arms, turn around, and head back to my bunk bed.
Reaching it, I settle down on the bed. My fingers dig into the foam as I curse, venting out my pent-up desperation.
“f**k!”
I am really trying so hard not to lose my mind in here, but I am realizing that the longer I stay in this cell, the harder it will be for me to hold onto the last strings left of my sanity.
I hate this feeling. This feeling of always being trapped. Of being powerless and incapable of being free.
And now, on top of that, a crazy shewolf is dying to rip me apart.
Isn't that amazing?
My stomach growls, still hungry, and I take a look at my supposed dinner. My fingers graze the soft crust of the loaf of bread on the plate.
It is cold now.
I pull back my fingers.
My lif
