“Get out.” I said trying to yank my arm out of his grip.“Vanessa.” He warned. He didn’t let go, and I was getting pissed off.“Let me go, P...ul.” I glared at him, and he just shook his head. He let me go, and turned to leave. But he wasn’t done, and he grabbed me, and threw me on my bed. Before I could get up he held me down putting some of his weight on me. “Tell me what the fuck is wrong. Why can’t you just be happy for him?” He asked grabbing my arm when I tried to elbow him. He made it so I. It had no windows at all and the only light was being piped in from somewhere to some sort of plastic diffuser in the ceiling. My door was solid with only a small door to put my hands through to get cuffs on and a window to look in on me.Ok this is getting old. What the hell did I do to piss in this agent's Wheaties?All weekend long it was either being stuck in this room, with little food or being interrogated at random times for hours. I was lucky to get a few minutes to take power naps. These. More

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