Chapter 1 - The Interview
I awoke suddenly, gasping for air. The room around me was a blinding shade of white. The only light, however, being a dim bulb on the roof. The murmur of voices was heard outside a door, sealed shut with a huge padlock. “She doesn’t know where she is. We don’t need to worry,-”
“But what if she figures it out? What if she realizes what had happened to her? What she did?”
Who were they?
There was a sharp ache on my head. Slowly, I brought my trembling hand to my forehead, startled by the sight of my blood. What had happened, and where was I? I took a good glance around at my surroundings. There was nothing here to see. It was an empty room, with white painted walls, signaling that it must have been an old place, as the paint was slowly peeling off. I turned to my right. There was a table with a plate of eggs, and a glass of cold water.
I picked up the fork off the plate and brought some warm eggs to my mouth. My hand was trembling like crazy now, and I dropped the fork to the ground with a loud clang. Footsteps were approaching. I guessed that it was whoever had brought me here, kidnapped and brought me, and they were coming. They knew I was awake.
Shit.
Frantically, I looked for a way, any possible way, to make a quick escape. There was a window, but it was far too high to reach for any person, and was protected with metal bars. It was then that I noticed the ventilation system in this tiny room, and a vent that would be big enough for a person to fit through.
Perfect.
As I was about to open the vent and plan as I go the next part of my devious escape, the door creaked open, and a demanding low voice was heard. “Stop what you are doing, and freeze.”
Solemnly based on my fear rather than to follow my orders, I froze in my spot and did not move.
I blacked out again.
When I awoke, there was a burlap sack on my head; I could tell as I brought my hands to my face and removed it. This time around, I was not alone. There were men there. Many men, some lined up on the corners of the room, guarding, guns readily armed in their hands watching my every next move. There were two men sitting in front of me, a file in their hands and a serious expression on their faces. Embarrassed, I quickly put down the burlap sack I had been holding just a minute ago, and crossed my hands politely over my lap. I was ready to listen. I was ready to know where I went wrong.
