My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas

Luther.

Luther will die if I don’t get up now.

The scent is so strong, it makes my lungs burn.

It feels like I am cremated alive.

I can’t see straight- just blurry shadows.

I think I am laying face down in my own spit. Or is it blood? Vomit? I can’t tell.

All I can move are my fingertips.

I tried to drag my body towards the room. To reach Luther. But I’m too heavy.

It’s like expecting a Barbie doll pulling a train.

But- just like Barbie- I need to try everything.

So I dug my nails into the floor and pulled myself with all my might.

My nails are about to pop clean off my skin. The pain is unbearable.