Withered Plight

Rory

I wasn't sure of how long I remained in the pitch black room. Hours? Days? It felt so long that I had completely lost track of time. I slept and woke up and slept again, stomach growling with hunger and throat parched and in dire thirst for water.

Alex didn't come to check up on me for once. It was like he was punishing me for fleeing and refusing to show up for the wedding by starving me to death or something. My hands which were tied tightly had completely grown numb and my eyes were undoubtedly swollen from the amount of times I've been crying.

At a point, I desperately wished I wasn't currently tied, then I'd have licked up my teardrops in order to clear up my thirst a little.

At first, I kept screaming and screaming for help. But after the hours bled into days, I gave up on trying. I felt extremely weak, too weak to do anything but wallow in self pity and pain.