Pain and friendship: a good match...?
Slowly Poisoned
“Cookies? You’re bribing me with cookies? I mean, they’re good, but not that good.”
“No, we’re bribing you with the antidote. You have three days until the poison kills you. Think about it.”
And with that, they shut the door, waving the antidote (some sugar cookies, of course) in my face before leaving.
I despise them. I really do. I mean, who tries to kill someone, then barters with the poisoned person about the only thing they have left of their family?
I winced as another wave of pain shocked me. At first it wasn’t so hard to ignore the pain, but it got worse after the first two days. I was at dinner when I felt funny. I looked down into my rice pudding and immediately fainted. I woke up after a day asleep in the hospital. They said that I had been poisoned, and I had five more days to live. I could go around and do anything I wanted to until the pain got so bad that all I could do was sit around unmoving. Then, before I knew it, I would die. Great. Just great.
Hospitals are horrid. Today is day Three after the hospital, and the pain is worsening. I was walking on day One free when I was snatched up by the people who had spiked my rice pudding with.
“You’ll pay for this!” I call after them, but the walls and only door (lockable from the outside) are soundproof in my little room, so I can scream as loud as I like and they wouldn’t hear me. I try to get out the door so I can pound on it, but I stumble halfway through the room. I groan aloud as the pain seeps into my brain, clouding all thoughts. My “room” isn’t really a room. It’s got a cot on the floor and a window high up, too tall for even a lanky person like me to climb out of. It’s dimly lit, and I have a book for reading: a comic about superheroes that would help someone like me, not deny them of the only cure available.
So I do the only thing I can do. I dig through the walls to see if I can escape.

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