I woke up to the sound of chains rattling against my skin. My head was pounding. I slowly pulled my hand up to feel where I got hit. My head felt crusty from the dried up blood on it. With much pain, I slowly looked up, only to be pushed back down.
“Don’t move.” said a large, burly man wearing a stained white beater, long, ripped pants, and an apron with a ton of holes. He smelled like a rotting fish surrounded by flies. His apron was stained red, and I had the faintest idea that he wasn’t a painter. I gagged softly and quickly swallowed the bile rising from my throat. The man lifted my wrists and untied the rope that was bound around them. Before I could feel them, he quickly replaced the rope with a thick, metal cuff. When he finished, he dropped my wrists and they fell straight to the floor, making a loud crash onto the cement. He slowly shuffled backwards, sighing softly as he rubbed his hand down my leg. His hands were rough, sweaty and calloused. I …show more content…
I feebly attempted to open them, but with every move I made came a wave of pain. When my sight was finally adjusted to the light, I looked at my surroundings. It seemed like I was in the back of a truck. To confirm my suspicions, the truck, along with my body, jumped up. My head hit metal, and I bit back a cry. I definitely had a concussion. I couldn't tell where we were going because the back of the truck was closed in. The only thing I knew was that it was daytime and we were driving on terrain, not the road. Every forty-five seconds or so, the truck would go over a large rock, sending me flying around. Whenever that happened, I could feel my broken ribs collapse on each other. Ten minutes passed until we went over a huge rock, on bigger than all of the others. This one was enough to loosen the latch on the truck, allowing the door to open. I peeked my head out to see if anyone was watching. When I was satisfied, I quickly got to
“Don’t move.” said a large, burly man wearing a stained white beater, long, ripped pants, and an apron with a ton of holes. He smelled like a rotting fish surrounded by flies. His apron was stained red, and I had the faintest idea that he wasn’t a painter. I gagged softly and quickly swallowed the bile rising from my throat. The man lifted my wrists and untied the rope that was bound around them. Before I could feel them, he quickly replaced the rope with a thick, metal cuff. When he finished, he dropped my wrists and they fell straight to the floor, making a loud crash onto the cement. He slowly shuffled backwards, sighing softly as he rubbed his hand down my leg. His hands were rough, sweaty and calloused. I …show more content…
I feebly attempted to open them, but with every move I made came a wave of pain. When my sight was finally adjusted to the light, I looked at my surroundings. It seemed like I was in the back of a truck. To confirm my suspicions, the truck, along with my body, jumped up. My head hit metal, and I bit back a cry. I definitely had a concussion. I couldn't tell where we were going because the back of the truck was closed in. The only thing I knew was that it was daytime and we were driving on terrain, not the road. Every forty-five seconds or so, the truck would go over a large rock, sending me flying around. Whenever that happened, I could feel my broken ribs collapse on each other. Ten minutes passed until we went over a huge rock, on bigger than all of the others. This one was enough to loosen the latch on the truck, allowing the door to open. I peeked my head out to see if anyone was watching. When I was satisfied, I quickly got to