BlackRoseL98

He sips on the drink that I have been sitting there for 20 minutes denying. He walks up to me, The ropes cutting into my wrists, my skin raw and bleeding. He pulls my face towards him for inspection, smiles, and then drops my chin. I look at him, my eyes in slits. This wasn't happening. I shake my head hard one good time, and then kick the table across the room. He looked at me, impressed. I cross my legs, still trying to work the ropes, and he chuckles, licking my cheek. I turn my lips towards him and spit on him. Again, that chuckle, and I simply look at the wall as I pull my trusty razor knife out of my sleeve under my red and black wrist