Dead Drop

Option Three

(Alex's P.O.V)

I don't exactly know how long we've been down here. I'm not talking about since our escape, I mean in general. When Tyler and I escaped we never really had the chance to look at a calendar. I mean, I'm sure we must've passed one on our route but we didn't stop and look at it. So, I don't know how long we've been trapped in here. The days slip into each other. Seconds into minutes. Minutes into hours. Hours into day. Days into months. Who knows? At this point I feel like I've been here for years. In actuality, I stopped counting the days after day 30. So, I know I've been in here at least a month. I wouldn't doubt that a couple months have passed since then.

Ever since Tyler talked to Ela on the phone, we've tried to be on our best behavior. We want to be compliant. We want them to believe that we are broken down. That they've won. I mean, they kind of have. I don't even really feel like myself at this point. I don't feel like the person I used to be. I used to believe that I could really change the world, like I could do some good. Right now, I honestly don't care if there's a World War Three as long as I don't have to be here anymore. I used to have a fight in me. It's something that I really prided myself in. Right now I couldn't care less if I actually died or not. In fact, I really wish I were dead. It would be a hell of a lot better than the shit I'm going through right now. Going on every day not knowing if it's going to be your last. Fuck that. Going through every day praying that it's going to be your last because you don't want to deal with the pain and the torture that awaits with whatever these sick fucks have in store for you that day. So yea. I'm not who I was before I came here. I don't know if I'll ever be him again.

However, they have sort of lightened up with the punishment recently. They haven't been holding out water and food as a form of punishment. We haven't been beaten up since the last time. I guess that could be in part due to the fact that Tyler still hasn't recovered from his beating. It actually feels like he might be getting worse. On a brighter note, we have actually beds now. And sheets. Which is good for Tyler, because it looks like he might actually die of hypothermia. I can't talk much, because I'm not doing much better than him. Though, I don't look like I'm quite literally on the brink of death. But I know Tyler. He's strong. He's going to get through this. Knowing him, he'd be damned if he let some bitch ass sickness come in and off him.

"What are you thinking about?" Tyler asked, noticing how quiet I was.

"A lot of things." I mumbled back.

"Being mysterious today, are we?" He turned to looked at me. I laughed at his response before shaking my head.

"Gotta keep the intrigue going. Can't give up all my secrets quite yet." I responded, causing him to join me in laughter. He coughed, hard. "I was actually thinking about how long we've been in here."

"You know how long we've been in here?" He asked returning his gaze to the ceiling.

"No idea. You?"

"Nope."

We sat in silence for a while before I decided to speak again.

"The longer I stay in here, the harder it gets to see a way out."

"The longer I stay in here, the harder it gets to want to fight to find a way out of here." He replied not looking at me. That is really true. I am slowly losing the motivation I had a little while ago, to escape. I don't even know how I would go about doing that.

"You know we have to try, right?" I asked looking over at him. "She'd never forgive us... if we gave up. She'd never forgive us."

"I already told her I want her to let me die in here. She already knows that I've give up. She probably already doesn't forgive me." Tyler's voice was distant and soft as he spoke.