Nathan
My arms trembled as I gripped the glass cup, my jaw clenched. The faint scar on my wrist snapped as if remembering itself.
I took a gulp of the red liquid and let it scorch down my throat. I held the cup fast until the squashing sound echoed through the room.
My arms were a mess of blood as a searing pain pulled down my spine. I didn't care as I retrieved another glass, pouring out another round of liquor and gulping it all when the door opened and a guard walked into the room.
"He's finally awake," he announced, then left.
A sudden rush of relief washed through me, but it was short-lived. I stormed out of the room, ignoring the bloodstains on the floor and the empty whisky bottles scattered about.
Now in his room, I didn't know how to feel. He lay with his eyes open the moment I stepped in. He didn't look as pale as before, and his body no longer felt dead because he sat upright in an instant.
