March 28, 2014 by Sez
You’re in a box. It is dark and cold. at one end there’s wire, too robust to push or bend: you’ve tried.
It isn’t a cell; it moves, the view through the wire mesh blurred, obscured.
You don’t know where you are. A vague hope that your mum’s ok is obliterated by motion sickness.
With a click, the door releases.
The urge for freedom fights fear of the unknown, and loses. You cower, flinching from the light. Despite yourself, you’re crying.
Hands drag you out. Kind tones and caresses from a terrifying stranger aren’t reassuring.
You won’t be going home.