don't know how long its been, maybe a half an hour or more. My arm still stings, but when I graze my fingers over it, I don't feel anymore blood. That's a start at least.
I lick my bottom lip as I try to peer through the darkness more. I can now see the trash surrounding me on the floor and dull grey walls. The door is wooden I think.
The smell of the trash isn't as prominent as it was in the beginning, but that doesn't make it any less disgusting. A deep sigh escapes my lips as I decide to lie down in fetal position (because there isn't enough space for me to fully extend my legs) but not before pushing away wrappers and banana skins.
When I close my eyes, a series of images come forth. Like Tyffiny, some of my teachers, the security guards, Ms. Foecher, my parents. I can
