The cold was the least of his problems.
In the dark, he could smell the stench of filth and stale sweat.
There was no other occupant at the moment. Yet it seemed like a room meant to break the toughest of souls.
His sneaker caught on the uneven, uncemented ground as gusts of cold air seemed to be wafting in from above.
He stumbled and tried to catch his fall but ended up striking his arm against a sharp iron edge.
The pain that lanced through him made him double over, his body heaving and caving in on itself against the teeth-chattering cold, aching his bones.
Turning his mind off crippling thoughts and mainly functioning on muscle memory, he tried to check what the iron edge was.
That was when he realised it was a bunk bed, without the actual bed.
There was only the spring iron, w
