Chapter 0317



Blair

Everyday I expected to feel a little better. Everyday I am wrong.

Cooper insists that the bag pumping liquid into my arm is keeping me alive and yet it made me feel like it was draining the life from me.

There's a knock on the door and the same daily routine starts. A nurse comes in and checks the drip bag. She puts a towel down on the end of my bed along with a tiny bar of soap and a toothbrush. I'm expected to follow her to the showers, pulling my bag of medicine along with me.

I had tried twice to strangle her with the tube that connects the drip bag to my arm. Both times I had been punished with withdrawing me from the medicine just long enough to make me suffer. Repeatedly.

Cooper had them do it to me for days at a time until I was begging him just to let me die. He always answered the same. "How do you think those that you killed felt? You deserve to suffer."

I follow the nurse to the showers. Most of the cells I passed are quiet. They had quickly learned that no one was coming for them. That screaming and shouting was a waste of time. But I always knew when someone new had been brought in.

Their fists would pound against the door. Their voices demanded to be let out until they grew tired. And after all these weeks, I still didn't know what Cooper is trying to achieve. Why make us suffer? Why take our abilities away to only keep us locked up in here. It made no sense. Killing us would be much quicker and we would be less of a drain on resources.

And if it isn't bad enough, I'm watched while I shower. Humilliation at its finest.

and a fresh one is given to me before I make my way back to my room, where a measly bowl of

plain. Plain food, plain white sheets, plain white gowns. Almost as if it were a way of telling us we don't deserve anything more. They even

here. Something about not wanting me to spoil the sheets and

Bastards!

a prison and Coop had anointed himself as the man

million miles away from the life I knew. The life that I had

my left arm just to be able to link my mother or even hear fucking Neah. I just need to hear another voice that wasn't my own or

of porridge, I place it on the floor and curl up in the bed. Starving would be

door is slid back. I feel a rush of warm air as the door

don't bother to look at him. "This

"I am not hungry."

"It's not optional."

"I don't feel well."

in that drip bag provides you with

what you call

fucking shit out, but you always appear before my heart even gets a chance to stop. My eyes flash up to the camera. If we all had cameras and albdid it at the same time, who would he go to

belongs to .Org

should I let you die, Blair

you are pulling." mutter and turn over so I don't have to look at him. "I've met some fuckers

tiny amount of suffering compared to the destruction you have

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