STOLEN

They. I don't know who they are. People I suppose is all I can say. I never actually met them they just one day showed up at my doorstep with a gun against my head. Why didn't I call the police? Why didn't I find a way out of the contract? Well, the answer is I couldn't, I obviously tried but that led me to physically losing my leg, my right leg. I remember it almost vividly, they were cogitating about something in my kitchen I was strapped to a chair, both my hands behind my back, but I managed to free one hand and quickly free my legs and arm, I quickly but quietly ran and grabbed the phone. Dialled 99- BAM. My leg was shot eight times. I remember staring at the blood, screaming while my leg dripped with dark red liquid. The next thing I remember is waking up with a pen strapped to my hand, a gun against my head and a tall, muscular man telling me how much I would hate life if I didn't sign that contract. Therefore, naturally, I started reading what I was getting myself into and signed it.
They left as soon as I signed the contract. The next thing I know is that I had a camera in my hand, a wooden leg and in a plane going to Vietnam