[A/N: Play the song above as you read⬆️]

⚠️This chapter contains a few strong words and very descriptive details about certain topics. I do not own the drawing above.

D A Y 3 :  C O N T E M P L A T I N G

In these situations it's hard to maintain hope especially when all the odds are against you. But hope is not relying on the odds that are against you its relying on that small chance, that small percentage that things will go right. That's what I have to do.

I can't help but think back to the memory that flashed while I was being tortured. It was someone with purple hair, it's kind of weird but nobody has control over their DNA.

I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. I wonder when was the last time I actually seen my face in the mirror. Maybe when I was 5. How many years has it been? How long have I been here? Maybe 3 years, or 4, maybe even 5. I lost count. My legs are are longer so I guess I've been here for a long time.

??? POV

'Crap, my debt is only growing and since 人形 [Doll] doesn't cry very much I won't be able to pay it off anytime soon' I thought to myself. My phone starts ringing, I answered it and then a pre-recorded message played,

"If you do not finish your payment by tomorrow, you will be terminated." The phone hung up.

I Clench my teeth.
"Shit."

Y/n POV

In this world I am alone.
In this world I am forgotten.
This basement is my tomb.
My existence has been erased.
My soul has been crushed.
My heart has been taken.
My wounds won't heal.
My mind is torn apart.
My mind is Broken.
My memories has been lost.
My body is chained.
I am trapped.
I can no longer escape.
My body it screams in pain.
It craves to be silenced.
My mind it yearns.
It yearns for rest.
My bones it desires movement.
My eyes look for something of interest.
Something that isn't black and white.
Something that isn't grey.
Something of color.
Black.
White.
Grey.
Red.
Red, the color I see the most, the color I see all over and around me. The color that I despise and wish would go away. Anytime I see red I see pain, I see torture, I see blood. I forgot what all the other colors look like, heck I don't even know the name of some.
Blue.
Yellow.
Pink.
I forgot what they looked like. Everything is just dull and grey and everyone in a while my vision goes red.
This basement is my tomb.
The cobwebs are my decoration.
The cold hard cement is my bed.
The chilling air is my blanket.
The blood is my dirt.
The dirt that one day I will lay in.
Buried in the land of hope.
If I keep believing maybe someone will somehow save me, and then I can return the favor by saving someone else.
I want to become unforgettable.
The human mind works in fascinating ways. I want to explore it.
The world has so many places filled with so many different people. I want to meet them.

I was taken out of my little day dream by a coughing fit. My throat and lungs burned with pain as I coughed up some blood, well a lot of blood.
[A/n: sorry to break the mood but have any of y'all coughed and burped at the same time? I have that hurt like HELL.]

He came in earlier and stabbed me in the stomach with a knife, purposefully avoiding any major blood vessels and for some strange reason I've been noticing that he would collect my tears.
'Guess he still wants me here to be his little doll to mess with.'
I hate knives most, the way the blade just rips through your skin and muscles so easily. Cutting through as if my flesh and bones were nothing but butter and ripping it out is even worse. My hand currently over to wound trying to hold back some of the blood, but it's barely helping.

Can't help but wonder what my life would be like if I was never taken away. Maybe a bit more peaceful? A girl can dream. Dreaming. When I get out of here that's something I look forward to. I don't even have the luxury of nightmares, it's just a black abyss. No matter where you look up, down, right, or left it's all black.
'End my suffering' I plead.

I shuffle around  trying to move the chains that weigh me down. If I don't try to move around the chains would cut off my blood circulation. One day I will be set free from my chains. But if I am untied from chains would I be free? Would people keep "clipping" my wings. Would they let me fly free?

Every bird has its feathers, but what good are they if they can't be put to use? Penguins swim, Eagles fly, and Ostriches run. What is a bird when it's feathers are gone.
It's dead.
There's nothing to aid in it's survival.
There's nothing to aid in my survival. I might not be living but I'm sure as hell barely surviving. I will not breathe my last breathe until I can feel the warmth of the sun, see the colors of the rainbow, and fly free with my wings. Until then I must survive.

I ripped off some of the clothing that I was wear and pressed it against my wound. I can't really wrap the cloth around my wound since my hands were tied in front of my body, but I manage. As I always do everyday, with blood stained hands I once again write.

D̴͍̤́͑͌́͆̅ḁ̴̪̼̩̱̮̗͋̊̽͊̀̉͜y̵̡̻̠̌̃͠͝ ̴̬̪͖̘̇̈́́3̶̨̘̯̪̥̼̞͇̱̣̀̇͊̎̊̔̊͠