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Chapter eleven

Sometimes, only sarcasm gets your joke. 

Notice the pun? 

Hmm.. Even I don't. 

I think I might have detention. 

Victim's pov

He was dragging me by my hair, dragging me out of my prison. I had lost count of days and my face no longer throbbed. I longed to breathe in fresh air and smell the grass. I wondered what was outside my prison.

His face was contorted with fury and his movements were rough and aggressive. I saw a tunnel few feet ahead. He wasn't going to make me run, right? I wasn't sure I could even run and I rubbed feeling into my numb arms. 

He dropped a bag and brought out a wicked sharp blade. The one he used to cut me. A whimper escaped my throat. He cocked the gun, then faced me.

"Run", he said giving me an emotionless stare. "Please, don't do this." I begged. Why didn't he just kill me and end all this? Instead, he injected me with morphine and let me pas

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