I beat my hands on the dirty black steel walls. I was in a room, a bare room with only myself and a thick metal whip at my hands to keep me company. With all my might, I whipped the walls. There were marks where cold strong metal slashed across. My anger poured out with every action I took. When I was tired, I fell to my knees. Tears came from my eyes and trickled down my gray cheeks. Gray with worry and no sleep for days. Dyed black hair, down to my waist, were filthy, last washed thirteen years ago. When I was fourteen, and before I was stuck in this fucking cell.

No one loved me, I hated myself. I lived in this cell for so long. For so long everyone forgotten me, I forgot how I used to be. I forgot why I deserved this, but I knew I have to get out. I can�t stay trapped like a bird in a cage.

I used the whip on my arms, which were already covered in self-inflicted wounds. I had to get out. I wanted to kill someone. But since I couldn�t, I used myself. Not like I cared. Pain was a friend now. It visited me so much. A shiver crawled up my spine. I couldn�t take it anymore. The jail guard opened the door to say a few words to me, and hand me a thin slice of burnt stale bread. But I couldn�t hear anything he said. I was too angry and confused to care about what he said.

Where did the whip go? I could beat him to death and then run. But the whip isn�t here anymore. I couldn�t whip him. He hadn�t taken it. Where did it go? I swirled around. The wall I had whipped was free of marks. My arm had no whipped slashes but only dark red fingernail marks.

What the hell is going on? My senses screamed in agony, and I didn�t understand anything.

The jail guard started backing out. I knew what to do? I charged at him. I punched him. I kicked him in the ass. Then I killed him. I don�t know how I did it. But I knew a camera was on me, and red lights blurred my vision, and sirens shrieked in my ear. I sprinted.

I found a gun. It was the gun of the jail guard. It was in my hand. It was fully loaded. I ran out of the jail and shot anyone I saw. I shot at the lock that secured me from my freedom. It didn�t budge. I shot it a few times, and it broke open. More sirens, Lights blue and red swirled across the dark scene.

I sprinted past everything i've lived in for so long. I punched several pedestrians. A few were in a blue suit with black caps and badges. Who were they?

I ran into the woods surrounding the jail. I ran into a clearing. The sirens weren�t heard. I could hear no one. I checked the amo. There was one more bullet. One more. I aimed, I shot, I knew no more.