Chapter 52

Ryan

I haven't been fed anything for three days, and I'm now starting to give up hope of being saved. Hallucinations have repeatedly shown themselves—it's a given in my state.

A layer of sweat is constantly covering my skin. I'm warm, possibly running a fever from not having eaten anything. The guards love mistreating me, slapping my back with rope, and shooting me in different places. It feels like I've been hit a hundred times.

"Wake up trash."

With tired eyes, I lift my head from the cold floor when I hear jingling keys. The fat hybrid guard dressed in a Hawaiian shirt is back with his shaved head and sunglasses.

"Get up."

I try to listen to him, push myself up on my shaking arms, but I'm too exhausted to move. The guard laughs at my pathetic attempts and finally opens the door without asking me to get up again.

"Gosh, it stinks inside this prison cell," The guard comments as he pops his bubblegum. He is a large man, almost