A dark room. One door. I could hear screams down the hallway. I had failed. Failed my friends, my people, my country. All they wanted to know was 'why'. Why did you do it? I never gave them an answer. First it was torture, that was the first punishment. Nothing I couldn't handle. Then it got worse. The second punishment. My friends, one by one, brought in front of me and shot. All because I wouldn't give them any information. They were gone, and I was not. Four days later, only one friend left. The friend I had secretly loved this entire time. When they brought him into the room, all I could do was stare. He was there, in front of me, still alive. Not for long. My voice betrayed me and I was choking on my words. He looked up at me with a knowing smile, and died with that smile on his face. They'd won. They'd broken me. Yet I would still tell them nothing. Not even with a gun pointed at me. I looked at the officer, and uttered my final words...
"I am wild"
A report sounded. And silence fell again.
