Make Us A Meal

Sarah's POV:

It's been days—an uncountable number of days—but I have seen the sun rise for maybe 37 days.

I wrapped my body on the floor. I was cold, tired, and felt nauseous.

Every day, it's either they pour buckets of water on us, turn on the AC, feed us poorly cooked meals, or throw wet sand on us.

"Sarah" Elma crouched towards me; my head was hurting a lot.

"You have a fever," she added, and I nodded.

I was already feeling sick before she kidnapped us, and now I think it has improved.

Elma hurried to the door and banged, "Open this door."

There was no response; for the first time in here, I saw her burst out in tears. I have been the one crying all this time. "Bella!!!" she called.

"Please…" Elma stumbled on the ground, and I had to stop being weak. "I am fine," I assured her. Even though I had a fever, I had to assure her I was good.