Cellworld

Her home became the dirty cell. Days must have passed, but she didn't know when one ended and one began. She used to stay awake all the time, but now she just tried to sleep and never wake to the dirty white walls and concrete floor, the one bare bulb stuck in the ceiling. She stared at the door when she was awake, praying to hear someone coming. It didn't matter who anymore, just someone. Anyone.

Somehow, they always knew when she was asleep. She woke to food beside the door and a clean chamber pot, every few times there was a bucket of water and soap, new clothes. She had tried to fake sleep, but they never came when she did, and she couldn't last long, no more than eight hours anymore. It was wearing on her.

She woke once again to the food and something in her just snapped. She grabbed the bowl and threw it at the wall, screaming wordless rage as the tasteless gruel splattered. Then the tears came.

"I'll kill myself! Give me a reason not to!"

Her sobs echoed off the walls alongside the sound of the metal bowl being beaten against the floor. A minute later it was shaped into a rough point, sharp.

"One reason!"

But her scream when unanswered.

Was this all for her, she wondered. What if she waited one more day? What if tomorrow was the end of this hell? What if...?

What if she died now, she thought also. What if it's just going to keep going on and on without end? Could she take this anymore?

She bent over the bowl, crying hopelessly. What should she do? Her mind felt numb.

What should she do?