Submerged in a tank of dirty water, my lungs are collapsing and I'm so desperate for oxygen my mouth instinctively opens; inhaling large mouthfuls of vomit-inducing water.

They lift me out of the bath coughing and spluttering as Grey in the next room tells them everything he knows but Jeremiah isn't happy and with every shake of his head, I'm forced under again.

Grey's turn is next and I know why Jeremiah made me go first. I've experienced firsthand the tormenting sensation which Grey is now being subjected to which makes me talk continuously. I tell Jeremiah about my childhood, all the cities and towns I lived in, all the establishments we cleaned laundry for, of my mum, of how I didn't know about The Organisation until recently and even then I was given minimal detail.

Jeremiah still isn't satisfied. He keeps pushing me for more information I don't have whilst punishing Grey. Jeremiah wrongly believes I am a vital part of The Organisation therefore I must know more.

This cycle of pain continues, my turn then Grey's turn. More punishments are applied in a variety of ways to force me to tell them what I don't know. The worst part is I'm never in the same room as Grey. We're always separated by the sheet of glass which after the torture morphs back into a mirror and Grey is hidden from me. I can't speak to him. I can't tell him to allow them to kill me.

I can't tell him I would welcome death rather than have to see him being hurt.