Zinnia
The next couple of days went by in a haze. Then again, I wouldn’t even know how long I’d been locked up. After Roman got me beat up and had his men have their way with me, he proceeded to drag me against the hard concrete floor, up the steep stairs, adding more pain to my body - and threw me into a room.
The only consolation I had was that the room I was locked up in, at least had a bed. But as time whilst by, I realised being locked in here, irrespective of the bed, was the worst thing to happen to me.
All alone, in the quiet of the room, for days, I could hear my heartbeat, so much so that I had used that as a mechanism to tell time move by. The room, looked like a cell, with a hollow cube of concrete, one way in and one way out, and a small box above my bed frame that serve
