Sold to the Enemy

Awoken to yet another unfamiliar room, the walls barren, cracks aligned with rust colored stains. A brief scout revealed fragmented streams of light emitting from an unknown source, though useful enough for the eyes to adjust properly.

The air felt sparse, secreting a hollow atmosphere that crawled beneath the skin, crippling the senses. There was no left or right in sight, only space that no other human occupied. A rat would have refused to dwell there. And yet, there I sat, while my fingers caressed a sticky substance, the texture similar to that of sap.

I didn’t move, I hardly breathed, but there was no panic. The room was smaller, a hazy mind confused the dimensions. I swallowed hard, my voice composed.

“You’re still watching me, aren’t you?”

My abdomen itched, a hand instinctively satisfied the irritation, a hand so unlike mine. And all it felt were bones, a paper thin barricade outlining them.


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