authorsnote: The short story that I gave to Jim.

It was time. I knew it. Elephant footsteps were thundering down the corridor to where I lay. I had no hope of escaping this time. Every single day, I knew it was coming but every single time it was more threatening. That dosage, it killed a little part of me. Every time. This was it. The footsteps were directly outside my cell. The voice came. I let out a scream.

My breathing increased as I sat in the corner of my room. I stared at the door knob of my cell. It was slowly turning. Each and every turn to the handle let out a horrific screech. My breathing increased it was only a matter of time until the door flung open. I couldn't bare for that to happen. How I hate when that door opens and that thing walks in. Every time I see it, shivers run up my spine.

The door flew open. A noise so unexpected forced its way out my mouth. This noise, startled the thing and me! It was as if a cat was having its fur plucked off, one strand at a time. This noise, was just so unexplainable.

The thing shocked by this noise passed backwards. I knew that by making this noise I was only making the situation worse. I threw my hands over my mouth, I did not want to create another sound. The look on the things face was enough to petrify me. I hauled my knees up to protect my face. I'd never felt so defenceless and scared before.

The floor boards began to creek, he was walking towards me. This was it. It was going to happen. A stone cold hand grabbed my arm, so tightly that I was loosing feeling. I was about to wriggle and try to break free. But before I could. My face was slammed against the rock, which was my floor boards. I let out a whine, but as I did this I could feel my arm being twisted and forced up against my spine. The pain was unreal.

I looked up, to see the security guard placing pressure on my back to make sure that I remained in place on the floor. Although he was on me, he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were focused on the door to my cell. I shifted my eyes so quickly that it blurred my vision. I re-adjusted my eyes to make out the masculine figure standing in my door frame. He was so tall, and large. He had black hair, but it was styled so perfectly. Not a strand was out of place. My eyes scanned this new figure. As my eyes scanned, they froze when I reached his hands. In his left hand, held by his perfectly tanned fingers was a syringe.

I wasn't stupid. I knew what was happening. The figure stepped towards me, and nodded. He looked at me as he was entering, a razor smile crawled across his face. This smile cut right though me.

I could feel myself being pulled up, but I couldn't take my eyes off this new figure. He intrigued me. I smacked against the wall. I could feel the rebound of my head and the wall. I closed my eyes and inhaled a tank full of oxygen. My eyes remained closed. But I could feel the presence of this new character right in front of me. We were so close, I could breath in his exhaled air.

I braised myself for what was coming. It was time. The syringe entered my skin. My body stiffened. The liquid wormed its way through my muscle and continued to flow around my body with my blood stream. My heart beat slowed down, the beating became irregular. My eyes struggled to stay open. My vision blurred. The muscular man who had been holding me suddenly released me. I felt the air go passed as I fell. i tried to move but I was far to weak. My vision began to flicker. I panicked. Then all went out.

I could hear the sound of the liquid entering my body. I knew that I had tubes inside me. They make such a fuss over my feeding. I refuse to eat, I just sit in my cell all day. Why would my mom place me in this hell! Does she find pleasure in seeing her only daughter suffer? I was fine. I am fine. 3 stone at 15. I felt fine. I am fine. Sure I won't do all the usual things a 15 year old girl does. I hate dancing. I have no talent.

But I am me. Starving and slicing myself are part of who I am. But I've changed. The day my mom placed me in this hell hole was the day I died.

I let out a groan, and slowly tried to open my eyelids. I felt cold. I felt bare. Something was wrong. I lifted my head so slowly. And looked down. I was in a silver tub. The tubes were going in my wrist, right through one of my slits. I couldn't move.

The cell door opened again. This time a female walked in. She made her way towards me in the tub. She yanked out the tube with brute force. I let out a yell. She turned to me, and glared. Her face changed as she said "Your mother's coming tomorrow!"

My jaw dropped. I couldn't bare to see my mom. She has never visited before. So why now!

I fell asleep in the tub. I couldn't move. I didn't want to move. I was still in shock from the news of my mom.

Everything from last night was still in the room; the tubes, the bags containing the fluids. Everything. I fumbled around desperately trying to find a tube. I had to. I had no other choice. I couldn't see my mom. It'd kill me, it'd kill her!

I picked up one of the tubes beside the tub, and wrapped it round my neck. I pulled it round my neck as hard as I could. I couldn't stop. I had to end this.

Faint footsteps made there way down the hall. I knew what this was. It was the nurse, but she wasn't alone. "Mother" was with her! How I hate that word "mother". I reached for the tube ends. And I pulled.

I gasped for air and oxygen. But I had to keep pulling. My vision began to leave me, I knew I was doing right. The footsteps grew louder and louder. They were so close now. I pulled harder. I felt faint, I could no longer see. I gave the ends one last good pull. It was over.

The last thing I can remember was the footsteps walking right passed my cell. It wasn't mother.

the end.