How long has it been?
Three days or four? Surly it has not been five. I rest my head on the back of the steel wall and feel every bump of the road. My short time being a pampered princess is now over, seems like fate really wants me to be a slave. My hands are tied behind my back and my mouth is gaged because I would not stop yelling at the top of my lungs like a lunatic. I now regret that, I feel like choking on this dirty cloth, God only knows where it's been. I am sweaty and exhausted. I glance around my metal jail and curse my bad luck. I can tell we are somewhere tropical, the humidity is like being wrapped in a wet, muggy blanket. I am numb mentally and have been since I was taken.
I feel defeated.