BITTER SWEET. [✔]

i m f i n e

In one week, he hadn't eaten. He wasn't hungry.

The problem with this was his now declining health. His ribcage was clear through his skin, most bones sticking out at awkward angles.

But he still wouldn't eat.

The only reason he was drinking was because they forced him, but eating was just not happening for him. He would not eat. Of they force fed him, he would just vomit out back up again minutes later.

So they left him.

Alone in a cell, his thoughts his only companion. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak. He had no freedom.