I used to cut myself from being alone.

After my parents died and I was sent to foster homes and orphanages I felt alone. I hated being alone because when I am alone I am surrounded by my thoughts and feelings. They eat you alive and you have nowhere to run cause you're trapped.

My mind always thinks of the negative things that might happen which will make me feel depressed and lonely.

The depression triggered something so I started cutting myself.

No one noticed and I tried my best to not show it.

I am weak inside and I will admit that but I won't show others that I am.

The first person who noticed was Jake. He couldn't do anything to help me because he was so far away and he knew telling my foster parents was a bad idea because they would send me far away from him. He said that he was a selfish man but I was thankful he didn't tell anyone. He slowly figured out I cut myself because I was alone so he would call me whenever he could and every night he would sneak into my room. It made him sad that I was hurting myself and I hated seeing him sad so I took a stand on trying to get rid of the habit. Whenever I felt alone and depressed I would call him instead of cutting.

But now I had no one.

Jake wasn't here.

I am all alone.

The men had drugged me before they moved me so I had no idea where I was.

I am in a room with an old bed to the side as well as a broken sink. It smells horrible that I threw up a couple of times. Sadly the sink didn't have any water so the throw-up made the smell even more horrible.

Blood was still running through my shoulder even though I covered it with my tank top I had underneath my dress. If I didn't get out soon my wound would sooner or later get infected and I would basically have no arm.

Then men would give me 'food' and 'water' but to me, it looks like my throw up and urine.

There was no clock to tell me what time or day it was but I track the days by the temperature of the room. The room got unbelievably hot when it was morning and it turns freezing when it's night.

If my calculations are true then I have been here for about three days.

Three days left in my thoughts.

Three days I wished someone will come and save me.

Three days I hated myself for feeling weak to where I needed someone to save me.

Three days I haven't eaten or drank anything.

**************************************************************

It has been four days and I haven't had human contact except, the people who give me food and water.

Why would they kidnap me but only make me starve to death?

Where were the guys?

Do they not care about me?

Of course, they don't. They only meet me like three weeks ago. They were probably happy to have me off their backs. If they cared they would have saved me that night and Asher wouldn't have stopped Caleb from helping me.

The door swung open and I look up. Two men who were covered in black stepped inside the room. One of them grabs me and pulls me up making me cringe in pain.

"Master wants to see you," one of the men say.

I knew it wasn't Walker because he would have came in during the first day to see me in pain. He would have sat right in front of me watching me die in pain but he didn't come. Not even once and I knew that would kill Walker not see me in pain in person.

So Walker was out of the question. Now it only leaves Black.

Black was the man who could have possibly killed my parents.

He was the man who made me an orphan.

He was the man who made me who I am today.

The men lead me through the dirty old hallways of what looks like an ancient factory. Big machinery was everywhere and the whole building was filled with graffiti. We stop at a double door and the men push me in.

I fall face first onto the ground and groan in pain and disgust. The floors were dusty and filled with a slimy substance.

What the hell is this place?

Now I defiantly know it's not Black or Walker their too classy to be in a place like this. Slowly I pull myself up and look around. A fat man with old torn clothes is standing right in front of me. He has a wide grin that shows his old yellow teeth and his eyes run up and down my body. Feeling disgusted I wrap my arms around my body.

"Oy vey ya snal, chto u negro yest' sestra, no ya ne znal, chto ona eto prekrasno."

Oh, so he's Russian. The only know he is Russian is because of his accent other than that I didn't know a single word to save my life.

"Um..... what?"

He smirks and walks over to me. Getting the wrong vibe I step back to have some distant between us but he seems like he was set on doing the opposite.

"I originally wanted money your brother stole from me but now you can give me more than money," he says. His Russian accent is still strong and I almost couldn't make out what he said.

"My brother didn't steal money from you," I sneer back.

"Oh but he did. I gave him 1,628,700 Ruble two years back and he failed to give it back to me."

1,628,700 Ruble! That was about thirty thousand U.S. Dollars!

Why the fucking hell did my brother need that much money for?!

"That's not even the price with interest darling," he said while caressing my cheek.

I slap his hand away and get out of his grasp.

"You're a loan shark," I say in disgust.

He smirks. "Don't act like I am the bad guy here darling. You're the one who killed your own blood."

That is the last straw. I was trapped in this hell hole for the past four days and my anger finally emerged. I raise my hand and slap the smirk from his face literally.

" Ty, malen'kaya suka!"

He slaps me back and since I was already weak from the lack of food and water I fall over. He grabs my hair and drags me out of the room. I scream out in pain but no one came to save me.

I am alone.

He pushes me into the bed in my 'room' and yells at the guards in Russian. They all nod and the guy leaves me alone. I struggle to get up but before I was fully sitting up I was knocked over again. Turning my head I notice a woman was standing there with a scowl plastered on her face.

She slaps me multiple times and grabs my hair. She brings me to the bucket with water in it and pushes my face into it. I struggle to breathe as she held my head under the water. My throat starts burning and white spots appear in my vision. Before I could completely black out she pulls me out of the water and pushes me back.

"Master said I should teach the bitch some respect," the women said with a smirk on her face.

I was coughing for air when she pulls out a pocket knife. My face turns deadly white as I see her approach me with the knife. She grabs my wounded arm and tears away the tank top. She plunges the knife into my bullet wound and I let out a bloody scream.

Pure pain filled my body as tears ran through my face uncontrollably. Screams fill the empty room and the women had a smile on her face as she continued to push the knife deeper into my wound. All of a sudden she pulls the knife out with so much force that it made me scream even more. I roll over in pain and try to stop the pain. She kicks my back which makes me roll into a ball and cry even more.

Feeling satisfied with my pain she finally leaves. Again I was alone with unbearable pain and yet again with my soul eating thoughts.

I wish she had stabbed the knife straight through my heart.