Freedom

Chapter 8: Yasmin

Men were standing at benches, typing vigorously on high tech computers. What were they doing? Who were these people? They dragged us down the long hallway, the sophisticated men on their computers glanced at us as we walked past. Two men were behind me, one gripping each of my arms. Their hold was firm, but I felt a sudden urge to run. I tried to break free. Before I could even think of what to do next, I felt a shock zap my whole body. It felt like a thousand electric eels wrapping around me. I screamed in pain while Trent stared ahead blankly as he was dragged along. I decided to obey. These people, whoever they were, were not to be messed with.

I tried several times to have a peek at what was on their computer screens. There were probably two hundred men working at two hundred computers. I caught a brief glance at one computer which displayed a huge picture of a brain. This was so suspicious. What the hell was going on.

We came to a doorway, hidden behind it was darkness. We all squeezed through and continued to walk down a corridor. How big was this place? The place we were in now was dark and dingy, the walls and floor was dark grey concrete, as opposed to the polished, shiny white walls and floor in the gigantic room we had just come from. There were doors with a tiny window, all lined up along the walls of the corridor. Was this a prison?

As we emerged further down, people appeared in the tiny windows.

"Help! Help me! Help!" People cried from inside those doors. I wanted to reach out and unlock all the doors. I was so shocked at what I was seeing. These poor people locked in here, for what? Was this all happening under the governments noses? Or were they responsible for this? How could they keep something like this so secret? Oh no. It struck me. I was going to join them. I was going to be locked in one of these putrid rooms and used like an animal. There was no way I was getting out now.

I started sobbing uncontrollably. This was it. The end of my short-lived life. "Let her go! You want me, not her! Let her go!" Trent started yelling. Why was he doing this? He didn't really care about me, so why risk himself just to save me?

"Dude!" one of the guys holding us shouted. Next minute, Trent was gasping in pain as he was tasered. His scream was piercing. The shock made me forget how much agony I was in. I looked at my arms, little blue vein like lines stretched up from where the taser beam hit.

They shoved us in a concrete room, Trent and me. One large South American guy burst in. He looked quite young, but his harsh facial expression aged him. He had chocolate brown skin and a strong build. He was tall, taller than Trent. Short, cropped black hair sat on his head and big brown eyes were angry on his face. In the midst of me admiring him, he forced Trent to his feet, and propelled him into a wall. He started kicking Trent in the legs and punching him in the stomach.

"You"
Punch.
"Dare."
Kick.
"Rat."
Kick.
"Out my brother."

One final kick in the ankle.
A painful sounding crack.