Young Sheldon woke up in a corner, not sure of where he was. The walls surrounding him were a dingy white and shoddily stuccoed; the floors, badly cracked cement. A light bulb hanging from bare wires served as the only light in the room. He glanced down at his legs. The faded blue pajama pants were soaked with blood. His blood. Sheldon curled up tightly, away from the pain and the memory. He hugged his knees to his chest as he realized he was in the basement again. Locked in the basement. Cold and damp. Sheldon shivered violently.
Daddy was home.
Yeah...very dark. Not sure why this just popped into my head. I feel so sorry for Sands. Pout