The Depth of Torture

Maybe I Will Never Know

It was hard knowing that I could have escaped but I didn't. If only I didn't stay there to listen to the conversation, I would be out of here and on my way to the police to report these people and get help.

The 'torturers', as I call them, relocated me to a new room so I have no idea where I am right now or how I will escape.

I can barely even move considering the put me on a bunch of drugs.

I don't even understand why they do that. They put just enough of drugs in me almost kill me, but it's never enough.

Why not just put all of the drugs into my system so I can actually die.

Because you serve a purpose dumbass.

What purpose is that. I continue to tell these people that I didn't do anything, but yet and still, they keep me locked up in this place.

Well if you actually took your time and stop worrying about escaping so much...

What the hell do you mean not worrying about escaping!

My freaking nails literally got plucked off and I was cut bad.

What I mean is stay here for a while and talk to the people here. Get to know them so that they can give you information.

I really think that that is a dumb idea. I could end up dead before I get any information out of them!

Well then stop being so stubborn and try cooperating with them. That could increase your chances of not getting hurt.

Someone walked into the room and placed a tray on the ground.

"Get up and eat. You have a long day ahead of you."

I expect him to leave but he just stands there at the door waiting for me to eat.

Talk to him and get some info out of him. This may be your only chance.

I get up and grab the tray and then return to the bed.

"So....how long have you worked here?" I muttered.

He hesitates to answer but looks at me in the eye.

" I have worked here for 5 years."

Well at least I am getting somewhere.

"What do you like to do?"

"Why are you asking me questions?"

Great what am I supposed to say now. He is probably becoming suspicious of my questions.

You idiot just tell him that you need some entertainment before you die.

What is this voice inside of my head. Am I going insane.

Even so this voice is very helpful.

"I guess I just need some entertainment before I die."

"Well I guess I can make conversation with you before Master gets here."

Okay. Here goes.

"What...what is your life like-you know j-just being here torturing people?

"Well my life.... I have no life anymore. This isn't my life. I don't even want to work here."

Then why is he here?

"Why are you working here then- I mean...you know-if it's not what you want.? I'm sorry."

I have no idea why I apologized. It's just something I do naturally. And no...I am not Canadian.

"You don't have to be sorry. I should be sorry. If anything...you shouldn't be the person in here suffering for whatever reason they have. I don't think it's right for you to be in here because-

Someone barged into the room before he could finish the sentence.

"Please tell me what you were going to say!"

They were pulling him out of the room by all of his limbs. They secured their hands around his neck and cracked it.

I watched his limp body fall to the ground with a low gasp.

"AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE! WHY DO YOU KILL EVERYONE THAT TALKS TO ME!"

They walk out of the room without making a sound leaving me to cry.

Maybe I am going crazy. Maybe I will die in here.

Maybe I will never know.

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OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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