It’s cold and it’s damp.  I cannot see anything.  I can hardly move my body anymore, every ounce of strength I once had, has dissipated. 

I’ve been here for a month and I hated it the minute I was put here.  I hate the stuffiness and closed in proximity.  I can’t bear the feeling of things crawling over my body from head to toe.

The smell is the worst I have ever smelt.  It has rotting and decay written all over it as if something has died.

The worst feeling though, is of utter abandonment, the feeling that no one cares anymore.  I tried crying, screaming and begging but I am still here, alone for the most part.  But when they come and take me back into the daylight, that is when I know the cellar is actually my sanctuary.