When Death takes notice

Confinement - Sample

I paced back and forth in my little cell, my oversized white cubicle if you will. The confinement was really starting to get to me in a bad way. I had been stuck in here all alone for four and a half days now, maybe more, maybe less. I had really no way of knowing. I hoped to God that it wasn't less, because I was slowly starting to go mad. It was silly how fast I had fallen apart. I had always thought that it would take more to break me. I used to crave solitude, relish in it. So being locked up in this box like this should have been a walk in the park for me. How very, very wrong I had been.

It hadn't really been that bad at first. If you dismissed the fact that this wasn't voluntary confinement, then it wasn't all that bad. I read through the three books that Mr. Assassin had brought down fairly quickly and enjoyed some snacks while doing it. I drew a few sketches on the pieces of paper which he had provided. It wasn't like I was being tortured. So this wasn't all that bad. I had been left to my own devices. But after, two days? three? the papers ran out, and it was around there it all started going downhill. Because there was nothing left to do, nothing left to do but focus on my situation that is. I started to fixate on how long I had been locked in here. How long had it been? A day? two? three? five? six? Judging by the food I had consumed I would have said three. Judging by the times I had slept it was six.

To be really honest, I couldn't really know how long I had been confined to this room because there was really no way of tracking time down here. I felt like a caged animal as I paced back and forth.

I stopped my pacing, and looked up at the camera, it was covered by the pillowcase that had come with the pillow he had provided. I just hated the thought of him watching me. Maybe he had planned on watching me all the way from London.

Fuck that!

I felt like screaming again. I had done that a few times already, all to no avail what so ever. I was losing my sanity. Maybe he wouldn't come back for me? Maybe he would just leave me down here to die slowly, alone and forgotten.

Mr. Assassin hadn't planned on bringing me back to his home in the first place, so what was really his loss if he happened to take another job back to back and I starved to death as a result? Another body to clean up? I would bet my liver on the fact that cleaning up my body wouldn't faze him at all.

Another body? Who cares... He makes bodies for a living...

I bet he is out there just...

just...

what is he actually doing out there?

He said a couple of days...

How long does it take to kill somebody?

I was about to resume my pacing again when I heard footsteps. They were coming closer, and stopped right outside the door to "my room".

My "hell" more like it!

My heart rate increased. I was scared at the mere thought of facing him again, but it did not scare me as much as having to spend another day in here, all alone, slowly going mad. Not knowing if he was coming back for me.