I swat my neck as a bead of sweat trickles down my collarbone.

My eyes are still closed because the room is depressing, and I’ve only been in here about five minutes.

One hour and fifty-five minutes to go.

I squeeze my eyes together tighter.

You’re on a beach in the Mediterranean. The sun is shining and…oh my God, it’s so hot.

My eyes fly open as the air thickens to the point where I can barely breathe. My skin prickles. I grip the waistband of my sweatpants and shove them down, desperately trying to cool off.

This is what they want.

I sob, my heart sinking as I realize they’re winning right now.

I want to fight back, but it’s too much.

I gasp as I kick the sweats over my heels. My head flops to the side as I tug the hem of my sweatshirt. I need to get it off, too, but my muscles feel as if they’ve melted.

Gripping the material in my fist, I raise my arm and pull the sweatshirt over my head. I drop it to the floor and exhale.

My palms are sweating, but I don’t have the energy to wipe them. I don’t even care that I’m sitting here in my underwear; it’s just a relief to have the fleecy material away from my skin.

My insides are boiling. I want to claw at my skin and relieve the itching that feels like ants buried under my flesh.

This is hell.

How long have I been in here?

I slide down the wall, and my face presses into the mattress. I should roll onto the floor, it’s probably cooler, but my body is boneless. Every part of me is soaked with sweat. My lungs burn with each scorching breath I take.

My eyes close of their own accord. It feels as if I’ve been in here hours already, but realistically it’s probably been about fifteen minutes.

Why do they like this? What are they getting out of it?

I’m floating. Ha, I can float. The heat is doing something, not just turning my skin pink and itchy, making me sweat and drying out my lips, but it’s lifting me up. I’m weightless.

This is okay. See, I knew it would be okay.

I’m flying, floating up and up toward the cool darkness. I raise my arm and flex my fingers. I want the dark. My arm drops, thudding lightly against the mattress, and I fall into that darkness.

I wake with a start. My skin pebbling breaks me from my sleep.

I gasp, and my breath makes a little cloud in front of me. Whoa, it’s cold.

Sitting up, I reach for my clothes. Wait. I left them right here. Leaping to my feet, I look around the floor. My clothes are gone.