Waiting for a bloody exhale
Chapter one…
I feel the coldness of the hard cement floor against my tough slightly bruised cheek of my face. The taste of blood lingers in my mouth. I try to move my body but I feel like I’m bounded up. Arms unable to move to get me up. I feel helpless. I turn to roll as the smell of stale urine and cold blood hits my nostrils. Sounds awful to me, I want to throw up. The room is spinning, I’m unable to focus. My left eye feel bruised and I’m barely able to open it. Darkness fills the room with just a ray of light coming from behind me. It’s extremely cold in here, I shiver violently. I have no fear being here, though in the back of my mind, I feel it isn’t safe for me here. I lick my lips, more taste of blood. Tastes a bit good to me. I try to sit up but the pain in my stomach makes me want to howl. Nothing comes out. I feel sick so I roll to the padded wall and I’m able to lean against it. I sit there alone, waiting for a bloody exhale. I cough, and a stray of blood hits the ground and side of the wall. This taste of blood almost seems familiar in a way for me. My eyes focus in. Where am I? Who am I? More importantly, what am I? As those thoughts cross my mind, I black out in a blissful sleep.