I woke up and fear instantly hit, I remember him grabbing me. I’m almost to afraid to open my eyes. I’m sitting up, probably in a chair with my hands and feet tied to it. I’m very grateful that I’m not tied to a bed. That would be the worst thing in this situation. The song he send me is playing in the background. It still gives me the chills. I’ll never be able to listen it or the original without thinking of him. I finally opened my eyes and looked around. I’m in some sort of a tunnel, it poorly lit by a small campers light. It’s filled with graffiti, but most of the graffiti is covered up with photos of me. It’s like the photos of me is wallpaper. The tears slowly and silently started to roll down my cheeks again. There were so many photos, more than I ever expected. It’s like a camera
