She stops at a dead end, which makes me wonder what is next.
My answer is given when the wall in front of us slides open.
She heads in, and I follow.
Ignoring the burning pain emanating from my wounds for as long as I can.
When we head through the threshold, I find shelves, boxes, a white cloth covering something large, and several washing machines.
It takes me a second, but I realize this is probably the basement.
My breathing becomes irregular, and the pain becomes too much, so I get on my knees, then I rest on the floor.
"Get up." She says to me, again without turning to meet me.
I want to comply with her demands, but the blood now soaking my clothing is enough to accentuate the pain I am going through.
I shake my head, ready to tell Celine I can't, but I am not given the chance to.
"I said, get up."
She, she's punishing me, I know she can smell the blood, smell my wound.
But yet, she is still pushing me.
