I hear a noise at the door, I hear numerous people coming towards the house and at an instant a scream of terror. A very loud shot goes off I believe it’s called “gun-shot”. Two very large men enter my room very forcefully one grabs me and ties my arms up, the other puts a bag over my head and hoist’s me over his shoulders. They’re running very fast to what I think is the door. It’s very cold so now I know for sure I’m outside; I hear the very faint voice of somebody I know.
I start to try and scream but I am too late for the man who hoisted me up has already put me in the large truck, taken off the bag on my head and put duct tape over my mouth, but to my surprise I tried to mumble “daddy” thru the duct tape but was too late.
As terrified and lonely as I feel now, I also feel uncomfortable I feel I am going to die because my dad was in fact a psycho at times. But, where I am going is far worse than imagined.
The brakes come to a screeching halt and I hit the back of the front seat apparently “daddy” cared so much to not even put a seat belt on me.
I am once again hoisted on the man’s shoulders. I start to kick. I scream. I squirm. I cry. I’m knocked out now. I awake in a basement cold and hungry, neither food nor water. It’s cold and damp down here. The corners echo from every inch of the people above me. I hear my dad’s voice; he of course has no care in the world and only wants the drugs, no big surprise there.
As scared as I am now I am still tired and find the driest corner of the cell and fall asleep covered in watery mud, scared and trembling from not even knowing what’s going to happen to me. I fall asleep for hours and sleep soundly, forgetting of what awaits my awakening from painful slumber.
