Thirty
The hallways of the prison closed in around me like a snake constricting around its meal. My thoughts raced and I couldn’t pick just one thing to focus on. Worry piled high. Somehow, I’d found myself a resident of this prison with no one to trust. The demon’s errands and informational tidbits felt like she was using me for something. I couldn’t be sure. My dead husband orchestrated my murder and Gemba’s actions made me think that he had been hiding something. I couldn’t tell up from down. This dark supernatural underworld felt like it would swallow me whole if I wasn’t careful. Already, I’d enjoyed inflicting cruelty and pain on others. I hardly recognized myself any more. I would not allow myself to feel guilt over who I had become but I hoped that I wouldn’t lose my sense of self o
- Writer
