Still Cindy's perspective:

After Jessie left, I fell to the ground, my trembling legs unable to hold me up any longer. I sat there for a while before picking myself off the floor and stumbling over to the showers. I got inside and locked the door behind me. It was a decent-sized room with a shelf and a shower. The tiled floor was cold but warmed up when I turned the tap on. I sat on the floor crying as the hot water flowed over me like a warm blanket. It was soothing.

After I had cried all of my tears, I stood up and wrapped a soft towel around myself. I turned off the water and put some pyjamas on, ready for bed. Right now, I just wanted to sleep. This week had been crazy. I was kidnapped by an orphanage. I wonder if the same thing happened to all the 'kids' here. I honestly didn't even know how many were actually kids. I wonder how many have been through the same thing as me. Going to sleep as an adult and waking up as a 12-year-old.

I took a deep breath, unlocked the door and walked out. I avoided looking in the mirror again. I just wanted to sleep and wake up as an adult again, but I knew it didn't work like that. I walked down the hallway to room five and opened the door.

"Hello, Cindy!" Keira shouted

"How was your shower?" Madison asked.

I ignored both of them. I was not in the mood for conversation. May just stared at my puffy red eyes and my pale tear-stained face. She gave me a small sympathetic smile. I tried to smile back, but I was too sad. I got into bed and lay there, facing the wall. The other girls seemed so happy. They acted like this was normal. Well, for them, it is. Don't they miss their family and friends? I wonder how long they've all been here. Maybe they've been here their entire lives? This was an orphanage, after all.

I was ripped from my thoughts when the door opened and someone walked in. They turned the light off before walking out, quietly closing the door behind them. I'm guessing that was Jessie. I despise Jessie. She's the one that caused all this.

She tricked Kirk and me, then locked us in separate rooms with complete strangers. And then, to make matters worse, she acted like everything was fine when I had a mental breakdown in the showers. Kirk could be dead for all I know. She could've killed him when she pushed him across a room and shoved his head into a concrete wall before slamming the door behind him.

Soon, I felt my eyelids get heavy and close. I couldn't open them. I was too tired. My body ached and my heart was shattered. I was coated in sadness, and it was obvious. I really miss Kirk. I'd give my life to see how he's doing. To see if he's ok. Soon, I fell asleep. My brain was still buzzing with thoughts but I was too worried to ask anyone the things I desperately wanted to know.

What ifs filled my head as I fell asleep on this sorry excuse for a bed. The stiff, uncomfortable mattress with crusty sheets that looked like they hadn't been changed in decades and these useless flea-infested blankets with holes in them. I sighed and drifted into a restless sleep, dreaming about my husband and son. Dreaming about what my life was like only years ago when Sam was alive and we were a happy family.

(IDK what to call this chapter, so comment your ideas below, please!)