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From what I can tell I've been here over a week. It's a weird scale that I'm judging that on, because I still have yet to see any sunlight, or any light for that matter. I'm basing my approximation on the amount of times my body has collapsed in the filth out of sheer exhaustion and slept long enough to dream. In here, though, dreams are a curse on top of a curse. Dreams get my hopes up. Dreams take me back home. Then dreams ball me up in their fists and thrown me back on the wet concrete of this shithole so I wake up just in time to flick off something that has too many legs and is tugging on my deflated eyelid, perhaps looking for a place to lay its eggs.
Even if that eye is fucked, its no home for an insect Brady Bunch. Not yet.
I have taken to drinking the random puddles of liquid that, only days ago, I was attempting to outsmart in hopes that I could at least see what he did to me.
I tired as long as I could to avoid it. I kept telling myself that I would get out of here, or die first, before I would put that shit down my throat. But my thinking changed when my tongue swelled up, cut off my air passage, and I spun into a stage of delirium that had me believing a pile of one-eyed, armor-plated roosters were banding together in the dark to form one giant bird and and were going to carry me out of here, back to…
Back..to..
…
my….
dead family.
I cant do this right now.
9:29 AM
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