Sergio.
He still hadn't recieved a call from Aisha and that was driving him crazy. He thought about the dream he had before he woke up that morning.
No longer is the door open, no bright light comes from the hallway. No handle, no way out. Four concrete walls, a linoleum floor, a toilet with no paper and a bare mattress - this "seclusion room" is a prison cell by another name. A steel-blue gown falls to my knee, fabric distressed by so much wear yet still rough. There is nothing to hold my mind or attention. Outside this room could be anything, anyone. There is nothing even to mark time. Would someone come in five minutes or five hours? Would I know the difference? The panic is no less than with the straps, trapped is trapped.
