Dear Reader,

Dear Reader,
If you find this, then I'll be really grateful if you read it. If you find it, you should know that you were chosen. You should know that you were sent from heaven to me, because for me, reading this would be the most helpful thing anyone can do.
I didn't know my life would change like this, reader. I didn't know things could get this bad, but it's okay. I'm still grateful, at least I have something to write with and someone to write for. Writing can really be helpful. If you're mad about something, reader, I think you should write about it, it helps.
I hope I don't make you cry, reader, because if you're reading this right now, you're special to me, and I don't like to make people cry. Especially if I care about them.
I'm sorry for what you're about to read. I'm sorry to write it.
Here's my story.
(Author's Note: The story's rated yellow because it has too much aggression in it.)


9. Chapter Nine

23rd - June - 2013


Dear Reader, 

After I woke up, I found her drawing. 

The "Bed" the cell had is simply a stone that is attached to the wall. I decided it was okay if she took the bed everyday, it isn't that different from sleeping on the ground. At least when you sleep on the ground you don't care if you move while you're sleeping, you won't fall anyway, whereas if you fall from bed, you'd get a bad injury. The last thing I need here is another injury. I've got enough of those. 

The Peace Takers decided to make us a double torture session. 

"You two will have a first date." One of them said, laughing. 

I was used to them dragging me out of the cell, but seeing them dragging her was really hard. Is that how weak I look when they do that? I could tell she was fighting. She wanted to walk on her feet, not being dragged like that, but she wasn't as strong as she hoped. Neither was I. 

This time they took me somewhere I haven't ever seen before. And I hope I never see it again. 

The cell was small as usual, its smell was filling the place. It was quite far from the cell we were in. It smelled of rot. The cell had a door, like my old cell's. It was shut tightly. Just as they opened the door, I was ready to pass out. But I didn't. 

The room was filled with bodies. 

Dead bodies. 

Instantly, I threw up. 

"Save it." The Peace taker beside me said, laughing. 

My stomach had been empty, I haven't eaten in about three days. That's the way we eat with the Peace Takers, whenever they want and whatever they want to feed us. We may eat shit and not realize it. 

"You'll get used to the smell." The other Peace Taker said. I looked at Faith and found that she was trying to keep herself from throwing up. Next, they threw me into the cell, threw Faith on top of me and closed the door. The cell was lit slightly. So that we can see the bodies, I thought. 

I landed on a body, which was expected, since the bodies in the cell are so many that I don't even think there could be a place for mice. Bodies were put on top of each other. Faith moved to the right, so that she wont be on top of me, then realizing there's a body underneath her, she started freaking out. 

I stood up, surprising myself, and dragged the body underneath me and the one underneath Faith and put them both on top of another one. It looked too horrible. Like it's been dead for weeks. The others looked even worse, like they've been dead for ages. Insects filled the place. And blood. And the smell, the terrible, terrible smell. Some bodies were deformed - most bodies were. 

I decided not to look at the bodies and finally covered my nose with the thing I was wearing as a shirt. Faith was crying so hard. Seeing her like this made me go nuts. She's so strong, how can she be that weak? I wanted to help her, forgetting that I was a one to be helped too. I couldn't see her like this. 

"Faith." I called. As if hearing her name for the first time in ages -and maybe that's how it was- Faith looked at me in shock. Then instantly, she threw her arms around me and we both landed on the body-less ground. Still crying, she sat, resting her head on my shoulder, my arms around her. She was so small, I realized. So small. She looked about my age, though. 

In other circumstances, I would've called this romantic. Only it wasn't. It was terrifying. But we needed each other, we couldn't go through this alone. Yes, we might be strangers, but we needed anyone to be with through this.

Anyone at all. 

"Shh." I started trying to calm her down. "Just put this on your nose and breath carefully." I said giving her the a piece of the clothing I had on. She did as I told her, and eventually stopped crying. We sat there for what seemed like a hundred years. We just sat. None of us talking. Just sitting there, our bodies tangled around each other. 

"I can still smell it, and I can't get used to this smell." She said eventually. I agreed. No one can get used to this smell. Trying to make her feel better, I tried to joke. 

"You still think I smell bad?" I asked. Her shoulders moved, and a weak laugh escaped her lips. 

"I was just being mean." 

"But you were right. I do smell terrible." I said as a matter of fact. Not that I cared about how I smell. 

"Well, so do I. It's not like I wear Chanel everyday." She said. 

"They gave me a shower, once or twice. Man, it was nice! The water was neither too hot nor too cold. Just perfect." Somehow joking about my misery made things better, I haven't talked to anyone about it, talking about it with someone who's been in the same - prison makes things easier, somehow. 

Not that talking about things with you doesn't help, reader. I still appreciate you reading all of this. I can't thank you enough. But saying the words aloud makes things easier too. I wish I could talk to you in person, reader. 

She laughed, humorlessly. 

"They had a habit of giving me showers, they love it for some reason." I shook my head, disgusted by them. I knew what she meant. Was she the only girl here?

"Are there others?" I asked. "You said you know everything about this place, are there others?"

"You know, saying I know everything about this place would be exaggerating, I think the Peace Takers themselves don't know everything about this place. It's full of ... surprises. There's always a new room full of new ways of torture, I just know many of them because I've been here longer and they really like making me suffer. I guess it's because I don't act as weak as I'm doing now when they're there. Not because I feel any better, but because I don't want to show them how much they hurt me. 

"To answer your question, though, yes. Yes, there are others, I know that much. I don't know if there are other girls, I actually suspect there are sometimes, since they really do anything they want to me, but there might as well be. There are old men, young boys, whatever age you want. I think I heard a baby's cry once or twice. I've never seen a girl, though. They must keep them somewhere far." She said. "How old are you?"


"You're older than me, then. I'm sixteen now." 

We felt like there was nothing to talk about for a while. We just needed each others company, and we both liked it this way - I guess. I mean, I did like it this way, I hope she did too. 

After a while, the Peace Takers opened the door and it knocked my head. Seeing the door getting open, Faith jumped away from me, and stood on her feet pretty fast that I was amazed. I realized then that my head started bleeding again. It was hit in the same old bleeding place. Faith looked as if she didn't have a care in the world. About my head, and about the place. She looked bored, even. As if she only wanted to get out of the cell because she got bored of it and wants to go see somewhere else. She walked with them to our cell, and seeing she could walk on her feet, I did too. 


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