crazydisneycakes

You wait in your dark and lonely cell, hands bound behind your back, voice blocked by the stifling gag. You scan your patronizing prison, the luxurious bed and drapes fit for the wealthiest queen, the plush chair to which you've been tied purposed to offer the illusion of comfort. But the drapes are shut, the candles snuffed. There is nothing but darkness and solitude, and the sting of ropes chafing your delicate skin. You wait. You don't want to, but the writer forces you, holding you firmly in place by the power of the pen that scrawls across the paper, painting words with neat, black letters that pin you down like a sec