Blur

Change

Lounging on my bed, I was listening to a cool remix of Pompeii, humming along peacefully. As the song ended, I heard a silence. Shots rang out and I could feel my subconscious urging me to run. But where to? Do I dig a hole underground and curl up into a ball? No chance. So I just sat there, helpless and overcome with fear, and waiting for them to take me away. And in my little space of mine, a large man burst into my room. It felt surreal, like a delusional vision but, oh, it was real. He grabbed me by my arms shouting in an unfamiliar language. My limp body was dragged along my floor, down the stairs and into the wrecked place that I had called home. I was shoved into a black van. I have never heard from my family since. We drove for ages, just me and a couple of burly men at driving. Over jagged mountains, through rocky caves, cruising along highways that stretched across the country, until we came to a small dark building of which I had later learned was a housing facility for business planes. We boarded a tiny blue one, and, the ride was at least six hours long. Up until then I hadn't had any decent food. I was given a small parcel of biscuits and a miniscule drink bottle to last me the rest of the next two days.

And for all I knew we were riding into the middle of nowhere.