The floor was hard and made of concrete. His hand felt like one of a monster. His screaming was one of a demon. My mind was so lost I couldn’t even concentrate to understand his words; rather I could only concentrate on the beatings. Not only was I dazed and confused, but I kept contemplating as to why I would sell my soul. “Was my life really that far down the gutter?” These thought kept running through my mind endlessly. I then become so focused on solving this mystery as to why I would sell my soul rather than feeling the beatings that occur during interrogations. “What lead me to this solitude,” “Why am I here,” “Did I really sign that contract to sell my soul,” “Is my dreaming so deep that it feels like it’s in reality.” The questions are endlessly running through my mind and I feel like I only have so long before this demon of a man knocks me out unconsciously.