The wall cuts slivers of pain into my back as I’m thrown against it. I think I feel bonefragmentingze as I imagine myself a glass vase that’s fallen. Burlap scratches the bare skin on my arm, reopening past wounds. My body crumples against the floor, exhausted, given up, wanting nothing more than to close my eyes and sleep. But if I let down my guard I will be even more vulnerable. I can hear their soft, deep tones. To most people they would be soothing, like the crackling of fire, but to me it’s the sound of waves crashing against rocks. Foreshadowing a storm to come. I want to look around so I open my eyes, but my eyelashes fluttering against the thick cloth obstructing my view. I give up, surrendering to the innocent calls of sleep, deciding I’ll stand a better fight well rested.



I wake up, slowly. I’ve only raised myself a centimeter off the hard ground when a piercing pain pinches me in my lower back. I wince and fall back down. Again, I attempt to sit up, this time gritting my teeth through the aches. I flutter my eyes open and look around. Confused, I take another scan of my surrounds, but still not recognizing anything. All I detect in my blurred vision is long highway a foot from my foot, a grey, quite unsanitary rest-stop, and an uninviting forest staring with its mouth open at my backside. Questions arise.


Where am I? Where are they? What did they take?


My heart stops. I shove my hand down my boot, feeling around, then I check all my pockets. My hand returns to me fruitless. They have it.

I push myself off the ground, the physical pain no match for the emotional anxiety. I stand and search the ground meticulously then walk to the center of the highway. Standing in the middle of the road I look right, then left. Following the road left my mind is set on nothing but finding them, and getting it back.