12

~Lexia

I don't know how long I've been tied here. I'm dehydrated, hungry and extremely tired.

Perhaps this state between sleep and consciousness is the real torture. Fighting at the haze that constantly surrounded me was exhausting. Maybe the neglect was too.

I began counting the days by the amount of times one man walked in. He would take advantage of my weakness, and drug me, so the nights and mornings would slip by unconscious and useless.

The next time the door opened, Reilly walked in. I expected him to drug me, and keep me here even longer...

"Pig," I mutter, salvaging enough of my hoarse voice to throw an insult at the red head. He smiles crookedly, strolling is casually with someone in tow.

"Delightful as ever," he muses, kicking the door closed behind him.

Escaping might have been a possibility. The rope around my wrist seems to have loosened over the course of the past few days, but the drugs render my limbs useless.

My mouth still works though.

"There are two things I