FALLON
The stiffness in my limbs reminds me of the long hours I’ve spent handcuffed to this cold, unforgiving bed. Each minute stretches into agony, not just from the metal biting into my wrists, but from the need to relieve myself which grows more insistent with each passing second. The discomfort is nearly unbearable, intensifying my sense of vulnerability.
Just as the solitude and silence of the dim room begin to claw at my mind, amplifying my fear of being alone, the door creaks open. The sound slices through the oppressive stillness, a minor relief to the heavy quiet to which I’ve grown so accustomed. Being restrained immobilizes me physically and traps me with my anxieties, leaving me to wrestle with the looming dread of abandonment and the endless dark. Something I’ve spent years
