The next dreadful morning came, the smell of death awakened me, I was dreading the torture I had to go through, which was now less than two and a half hours away. I got out of my bed, my trembling knees just managed to carry me to the bathroom to have a wash and clean my teeth.
With every foreboding foot step I took down the stairs came a stronger and stronger smell of toast. Once I got to the bottom of the never ending staircase, I headed for the kitchen table where lay a plate of delicious breakfast.
As I bit into the delicious toast another thought slowly floated into my head, that this could be my last taste of freedom.
Once I had finished the last taste of heaven, I dragged myself up the never ending staircase, the further I got the darker it got, and finally there was light at the end of the tunnel.
I went into my bedroom to get prepared with everything I needed for the deadly experience. My mother said ‘Are you ready Because we are late!’
As I stumbled down the stairs the front door swung open, my mother shouted ‘hurry up!!’
As I walked out of the door a tear trickled down my face, thinking that it could be the last time I ever see the house.
I got in the car and started my agonising journey to the death bed. Once on route my mother said that I would pay for all the things I have done wrong.
Once I had got to my final destination I said to myself here goes nothing, as I was about to face my worst fears.
As I got out of the car a child came running out of the building crying hysterically, having just run away mid way through the trauma I was about to face. As I entered the building there were just plain grey walls with only a few posters on saying what not to do.
As I sat down in the cold, plain room thoughts came in and out of my head about the little kid that had just run out crying, I was trying to think of the terrible, deadly experience he has just escaped from.
Seconds later Mr Philler called me in to the torture chamber and said, ‘Well, have you been looking after your teeth??’
