*Lily*

I picked at the paint that had dried on my fingers wondering what time it was. Still stuck in this godforsaken shit hole of a basement, my prison felt like it was becoming smaller. My hands were red and pink from the colors I had just used in the painting and I chipped away at my nails nervously. I felt very unsanitary and wished I could have a sink to just wash my hands. I could even wash my hair, which had become slimy and sticky against my scalp.

I had been ...