HAZEL’S POV
“Let go! You’re hurting me!”
My voice rung through the walls as I was being pulled by my hair down a set or stairs. My skin was scrapping the floor, and it stung harshly. These men could care less about how much bruises I was getting.
I kicked my feet and trashed around, as I gripped the hand of the guards that held on to my hair tightly. I tried to claw my way out of his grip, but it was impossible. We reached the end of the stairs and I dug my nails into his wrist so hard, I began to see blood pooling out.
He cried out in pain and let go of me. Seizing the opportunity now that I was free, I began to crawl up the stairs at an incredible speed. Once I saw the top of the stairs, hope flashed in my eyes.
I could escape.
That hope died down almost immediately,
