There was a banging on the door; so intense I thought the wood would splinter and implode on me as I went to open it.
After that I lose any linear grip on what happened.
I was drugged, I know that much, because it all seems like transitions in a movie.
My apartment.
The trunk of a car (it smelled like piss and blood).
A warehouse on the pier, tied to a chair.
The cop was screaming in my face, yelling things like "tell me where she is" and "I'm gonna' kill you if you ******** her!"
The drugs are wearing off.
Oh s**t.... Oh s**t, I'm ******** cop was holding a knife.
Where did the girl go in the middle of the night?
She just vanished.
I tried not to think about the superficial things the cops was doing to me with the knife.
I tried to hide in my mind.
I failed.
God the pain was intense.
Intricate designs were emblazoned on my skin now, bleeding a dark crimson onto the dirty floor.
Infinite possibilities-A writer's guild
This is a writer's guild where all can gather for feedback and advice on all mediums of writing. Plus it's a great place for conversation.
Reply | ||||||
|
|