Day by day passes.
Men come and men leave. Each man more disgusting than the last. Sometimes it's more than one and sometimes they bring a camera just to add to my shame.
The blueberry eyed man says,
"It's fate we met, it will be you who brings me a fortune." He repeats this to me each time we meet and just before he sticks a needle into my arm.
"I hate him, I will kill him." This is the mantra that I repeat in my mind like a lullaby before the drugs kick in and render me useless.
Once I wake back up I usually only have an hour before the nightmare restarts. Regardless of how tired or worn out I am I must make the most of that hour.
I carve a stone on the concrete floor, slowly sharpening it so I can exact my revenge.
I will not lose.
And I will make you pay for torment you put me through.
Vincent Ramsey, you with the blueberry eyes, I will kill you.