(First Of all. Sorry this took a while to write and Second of all. I had recently published a short story called I Never Understand. Please check it out. I think it really means something. It would mean so much to me and my cousin. My cousin was my inspiration and I would really want to bring something that's a problem, to light. So please check it out.)

~Y/n's POV~

I had been in this cage, for who knows how long. I had tried to keep track, but the amount of time's I had blacked out from their abuse had made me lose track. I don't know if I've been here for a week, 2 week, 3 weeks, or a month.

I wanted to believe that Peter would come and get me and save me. But as the days or weeks, went by, I lost hope. I kept having nightmare. Sometimes about my family, sometimes about the orphanage, sometimes about Bree, and sometimes about...Peter. I would dream about pain, abuse, loneliness.

I gave up begging to be let go, because I never succeeded. They would just smirk and laugh. Smirk and laugh. Smirk and Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. At times I thought I was going crazy. Whenever they did something, that action would be replayed in my mind, over and over again.

Like when your watching a movie and the backwards button is broken. Something happens, it breaks and goes back, gets fixed, goes back to when they stopped, breaks again and goes back, replays to when they stopped, breaks again and goes back. Constantly. Like a broken back button.

I didn't know how to stop it. It just happened. The button was broken. It's been broken for a while and I couldn't get it fixed. I knew when I broke it. It was a vivid memory that keeps replaying, and replaying, and replaying.

~Flashback~

I was asleep, in the middle of the worst nightmare that I had ever had. Everyone, Bree, Aunt May, Peter, Ms. Daniels, Director Fury, my father, my mother. Everyone that had made an impact on my life was there. Surrounding me. Glaring at me. Looks of disgust covered their faces. Their hands were raised and went flying down. Pain. I felt a series of slaps hitting my face.

It went in order. My father first, then my mother, the police man that saved me at the crime scene, Ms. Daniels, the other orphans, Bree, her friends, Peter, Aunt May, Director Fury, Coulson, the Avengers and then the men that had captured me. All in a line. Slapping me. After the slapping, came the kicking. Then came the insults. Then they insulted me while slapping and while kicking me.

I felt a pull on my hair, jerking me awake. "You get up when we tell you to!" One of the men yelled at me. I sat up, staying silent. Showing no emotion. "Okay?" I didn't respond. "Respond b****!" He yelled angrily, whilst slapping me. I nodded. "Sorry." I had quietly apologized.

A smug look covered the mans face. "Here. Food." He said plainly and shoved a bowl of soup in front of me. I nodded and took the bowl. Slowly taking a bite of the cold food. "Your welcome b****!" He yelled and pushed his hand through the bars, pushing me into the other side of the cage. One of the bars hit the temple of my head. My head throbbed in pain.

"Thank yo-" I was cut off by the man pulling me back wards and into the bars again, hitting the back of my head with the bars of the cage. "Good enough." He hissed and pushed me forward, with enough strength to make me hit my head on the bars again. I curled up in the corner, my head throbbing in so much pain.

 "Good enough."

"Good enough."

"Good enough."

"Good enough."

It echoed in my ears.

~Flashback over~

I seriously thought I was going crazy. At times, I would hallucinate and thought I saw everyone that was in my dream, surrounding the cage. But I would blink and rub my eyes, and when I would open them again, I would find that I was still the only one in the dreadful room.

I would sometimes hallucinate and think that Peter was entering the room, coming to save me, but I would blink and rub my eyes, and when I would open them again to find that it was just one of the men coming in to hit me again. And again. And again. Again. Again. Again.

By the time the man would leave, the memory of him hitting me would be repeating several times in my head.

Would I ever leave?

Would they ever find me?

Would they ever let me go?

Would this ever stop?

These thoughts would repeat in my head, everyday, almost every minute.

(Sorry, this is kind of short and nothing really happened.)