cocaine
25-10-2006, 12:08 PM
We got asked to do a creative writing thing, I did it as though I was a charity worker in Etheopia.
Dearest family.
I am sitting here, confined to my 6x6 foot hellhole. I have been dragged off to an unknown island, in the middle of the ocean. From what I can see I think I am somewhere in the poorest parts of Africa. I was working as a relief worker in Ethiopia, helping out where I was needed, trying to help people from poverty and starvation, when I was brutally shoved into a van and tied up by four masked men. It was terrifying. I was taped around the mouth and my hands tied behind my back, the thick rope cutting into my hands and we hurtled along a dirt track. The four masked men barely spoke; even if they did it was a brief conversation in some native African language. They weren’t interested in having a chit-chat, they were interested in me. I could feel all 4 pairs of eyes burning into my head. I daren’t not speak to them, not even to make eye contact, for they were all holding machine guns, armed and ready. As we hurtled along the African plain, I snatched a chance to look out of the small grimy window. All I saw was desert land after desert land. It was completely empty. Not a single person or animal or plant in sight. Just quiet.
We finally stopped. I was blindfolded so I couldn’t see anything. I was roughly pushed into a slippy concrete room, which was very cold, unusual for somewhere in Africa. The ropes were killing my hands by now. I was searched from head to toe, still blindfolded, and then they took me into a cell, no bigger than 6x6 feet. They stayed there for an hour with me, just watching me, and they gave me a pad of paper and a pen, and an envelope. This is what I am writing to you now. When I asked them “Why am I here?” the masked men just laughed. Then they drew one finger up, and slowly dragged it across their necks. That was when I knew I was for it. They took my letter. They laughed again and walked out of the room. Before the last one left, he looked behind him and gave me a look of deepest loathing, and I knew that they weren’t coming back. I look out of my ‘cell’ window, three grimy short fat poles across a window of about 10 cm high and 30 cm long. It was not covered, so I was exposed to the cold and chills of the night.
I hope someone comes and rescues me, it’s really terrifying out here. You should hear some of the noises in the night!
That is all from me, the four masked men are looking edgily at me now.
Hope to see you soon,
Darius.
Dearest family.
I am sitting here, confined to my 6x6 foot hellhole. I have been dragged off to an unknown island, in the middle of the ocean. From what I can see I think I am somewhere in the poorest parts of Africa. I was working as a relief worker in Ethiopia, helping out where I was needed, trying to help people from poverty and starvation, when I was brutally shoved into a van and tied up by four masked men. It was terrifying. I was taped around the mouth and my hands tied behind my back, the thick rope cutting into my hands and we hurtled along a dirt track. The four masked men barely spoke; even if they did it was a brief conversation in some native African language. They weren’t interested in having a chit-chat, they were interested in me. I could feel all 4 pairs of eyes burning into my head. I daren’t not speak to them, not even to make eye contact, for they were all holding machine guns, armed and ready. As we hurtled along the African plain, I snatched a chance to look out of the small grimy window. All I saw was desert land after desert land. It was completely empty. Not a single person or animal or plant in sight. Just quiet.
We finally stopped. I was blindfolded so I couldn’t see anything. I was roughly pushed into a slippy concrete room, which was very cold, unusual for somewhere in Africa. The ropes were killing my hands by now. I was searched from head to toe, still blindfolded, and then they took me into a cell, no bigger than 6x6 feet. They stayed there for an hour with me, just watching me, and they gave me a pad of paper and a pen, and an envelope. This is what I am writing to you now. When I asked them “Why am I here?” the masked men just laughed. Then they drew one finger up, and slowly dragged it across their necks. That was when I knew I was for it. They took my letter. They laughed again and walked out of the room. Before the last one left, he looked behind him and gave me a look of deepest loathing, and I knew that they weren’t coming back. I look out of my ‘cell’ window, three grimy short fat poles across a window of about 10 cm high and 30 cm long. It was not covered, so I was exposed to the cold and chills of the night.
I hope someone comes and rescues me, it’s really terrifying out here. You should hear some of the noises in the night!
That is all from me, the four masked men are looking edgily at me now.
Hope to see you soon,
Darius.