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The Kidnapping
Once the slightly damp rag was laid upon my face, I fell into a coma-like state that felt like a mental prison. I woke only to see nothing but the inside of a sack. My arms and legs were bound, incapacitating my movement and hope of survival.
I didn’t know what to think once I was transferred to another van. I struggled a bit when someone’s hand grazed my arm. My action was quickly met with a commanding punch to the gut. Pained and afraid, I started to sob quietly while masking my breathing, so not to arouse suspicion of me being awake.
After what seemed like an eternity, more people had gathered around me. I could feel the rain pounding all over body and dripping through the sack. I had never been scared of stairs before, but the stairs I am being forced to climb are the most petrifying of them all. Eventually I was guided into a building, at least I think it was a building.
My ears were flooded with conversations in a different language that I couldn’t decipher. Someone shouted something that was like cut. Then someone stood me up from the chair I was sitting in and tightened a rope around my neck.
Everything slowed down like in a dream where you are stuck in one place and cannot move. Every sense that was alive in this room found its way into my mind for processing. I heard a man start to preach in front of me. The musty smell of the unused room. My racing heart echoing its last thumps off the worn-down brick walls. As I stood on the chair I had been previously sitting on. My fate swirled around me for a split second before I was finally able to accept my destiny. This would be my final breath; I would never get to see my son take his first steps.
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I just got bored one day and... well this happened.