꧁𝚆𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚒𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚋𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊. ꧂
"I preferred to be in a war zone then b...
⚠︎︎TRIGGER WARNING: Torture: Burning, cutting, and beating, death of a character, memory of bullying and sexual assault, mention of mental illness and people making fun of said mental illness. Blood, and violence.⚠︎︎ ☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎
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It's been a week... I think... I can't say that for sure but I think it's been a week... I haven't really spoken to anyone else.
I haven't spoken to my dad since he beat the shit out of me and Spencer, and when Louis comes in, he doesn't really talk much.
So it's just been me and Spencer.
Y'know, a common misconception is that you need to be actively doing something to someone to torture them if that's psychological, or physical. But you don't.
Sometimes the worst kind of torture is the waiting, the constant fear that at any minute your torturer will come in and kill you or start hurting you.
The silence is torture enough, it drives you insane to the point where your brain creates imaginary people who start talking to you.
I'm not saying I'm hearing voices or anything, and I've got Spencer to keep me company so for the minute I'm not losing it, but fuck has the time gone by slowly.
Also, conversation with Spencer got boring real quick, we tried talking about things that made us happy, but that died super fast.
We tried talking about random things that we knew, but there's only so much either of us can say before we became sick of our own voices.
To add to that I barely had the strength or motivation to talk or move. Spencer seemed to be healing, but due to the severity of my injuries with the lack of proper treatment, I was getting worse.
I was losing weight rapidly because eating no longer appealed to me and the stale bread was beginning to repulse me to the point that swallowing felt impossible.
Most days I would sleep, or try to. Sometimes I'd manage it if Louis slipped an oxy pill under my pillow.
And if I wasn't sleeping, I was sitting with Spencer in silence waiting for... Well, that's the thing, I don't know what we were waiting for.
Maybe it was for the physical torture to begin, or for my parents to finally enter and put a bullet in between my eyes.
Maybe we were waiting, and hoping for the team to suddenly enter, guns blazing, and save us. I think that's what Spencer was hoping for.
