Maurice.
The air was stale, chilly and damp today— which was quite normal for someone locked up in a cell. However, none of these compared to the feeling of dread that crept up my spine every two seconds. It also didn't compare to the feeling of being watched that I for some reason could not shake off.
Ever since I woke up this morning, there has been this tightness in my chest. This discomfort in my spine and this voice somewhere at the back of my skull screaming out at me, and no matter how hard I tried to block it out, it was impossible.
My fingers curled into my knees and my nails dug so deep into my flesh that it almost drew blood. My body shook with terror— a terror that I couldn't ascertain where it was coming from and the more I tried not to think about it, the worse it became.
