Drapetomania | Creepypasta

15.

??, ??, 2017

it was the same as every other day.

at least i had a bit more freedom now.

I awoke, feeling more refreshed than I had in a long time. It was the best sleep I'd had since arriving in this dismal place. No backaches, no uncomfortable cramps, just a sense of genuine rest. However, despite the improvement in my sleep quality, my ankles remained a source of discomfort and distress.

The burns on my ankles, a result of being bound to that chair for so long, had worsened over time. Without proper cleaning and care, they had become more painful with each passing day. The chain attached to one of my ankles only exacerbated the issue. While the pain was still bearable, I couldn't help but wonder how much longer I could endure it.

Masky's early arrival caught me by surprise, but I welcomed the chance for a conversation. He acknowledged my wakefulness with a small nod, his usual enigmatic demeanor intact. As he placed his bag on a nearby table, I couldn't help but mention how well I had slept, despite the ongoing discomfort in my ankles.

"Yeah, I slept amazingly, actually, apart from... you know," I replied, motioning toward my chafed and sore ankles. Masky tilted his head to the side and approached, kneeling down beside me.

"May I?" he inquired, already taking one of my feet in his hand. He lifted his mask slightly to get a better look, his actions meticulous and precise. The mask obscured his face, leaving me to wonder about the emotions hidden beneath that haunting visage.

"i have an idea...but we'll wait til sally gets here..." he said quietly as he pulled his mask back down over his face and freeing my leg from his grasp

"sally?" i questioned only receiving a nod

Masky's cryptic mention of someone named Sally piqued my curiosity, but he seemed unwilling to provide more details. Instead, he shifted the conversation to my desire for cleanliness, which was indeed a pressing issue given my current state.

"You wanted to feel clean, right?" he asked, as if the answer was evident. "I can't exactly... so, yeah... I asked for a hand."

I nodded, grateful for his willingness to help. It was clear that Masky had a plan in mind, one that involved this mysterious Sally. As I waited for further information, I couldn't help but wonder how this new development might change my confined existence.

I sat on my makeshift bed, I couldn't help but think about how they ended up like this, and myself. The future I had envisioned had been replaced by a bleak and uncertain existence.

"Masky," I called out, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. "Do you ever think about the life you had before all of this?"

His response was a contemplative pause before he replied, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Sometimes, Y/n. But dwelling on the past won't change our circumstances."

I decided to broach the subject again. "Masky," I began, my voice cautious, "there's something I've been wondering about."

He turned his masked face toward me, his eyes concealed behind the white porcelain. "What's on your mind, Y/n?"

"I want to know more about your life before all of this," I admitted, my voice tinged with curiosity and empathy. "Who were you, Masky? What led you down this path?"