Glory
I have no idea how many days it’s been since Hugo first locked me away in this dark space. My world has shrunk to the rhythmic creak of the door twice a day, when he delivers nothing but water and a bowl of bland oatmeal. It is a slow starvation, a deliberate withholding of real nutrition that is steadily hollowing me out from the inside. The deficiency has taken a hard physical toll.
Last night, muscle cramps ripped through my legs with such sudden, violent intensity that the pain overrode my ability to stay quiet. Crying out only invited a different kind of terror. The first time the pain broke my silence, Hugo stormed into the room, his fury cold and volatile. He violently restrained me and injected a massive dose of Special K into my arm. The heavy chemical flooded my veins,
