
The Punished
In. Out. In. Out. The air was pushing in and out of my lungs so violently, I thought I’d puke. My heart was pounding in my head, in my gums and in my legs, not that I could tell- they had gone numb a while ago. I could hear the wheezing coming from my throat, though it didn’t sound like me. I looked back in a panic to see that they were still following me; three of them.
Blood trickled from the gash on my head where they had pushed me into the cement. It got in my right eye and burned like hellfire. I tried in vain to rub it out, but that just made it hurt worse. My pants were long gone, and I now just wore my tanktop and underwear- also stained with blood from what the three of them called a “fun night”. I felt my nose burn as tears pricked at my eyes. I was going to die.
I mustered up all the air I could gather in my burning lungs to let out a strangled cry.
“Help!”
“BANG!”
I heard a gunshot, and stopped cold in my tracks. Not daring to look down at my mangled body to see if I had been hit. I wouldn’t feel it at this point.
“BANG!”
A rush of wind flew by, rustling my hair as a bullet flew by my head. But it wasn’t coming from behind me.
“BANG!” Another one, this time on the other side of my head. I didn’t dare to move for a few seconds, before turning around and seeing them; all three lying, two with their faces gone, and the third missing a chunk of his chest.
I started breathing harder and harder before collapsing on my knees. The night had finally gotten to me; and I could feel the adrenaline rushing out of my body. I couldn’t move any more, I couldn’t run anymore, I couldn’t TAKE anymore. I fell to the ground, and laid on my back, head lolling to the side. Before shutting my eyes, I saw a pair of boots slowly walking up to me, rhythmically, and heavy. Then the world went black.
I came to a couple of times after that. Once while being carried. I knew someone was carrying me, because the world was upside down, and moving- passing me by. The second time in the back of a...van? With a heavy leather jacket draped over me. I passed out again to the sound of the road underneath us.
The third time I woke up, I could feel my head pounding, and the world around me was foggy. I was on some sort of table and there was a man on one side of me, with his arms crossed, looking at my stomach, and another on my right side doing something to it. It looked like he was sewing it up.
I started to panic, breathing heavier, as I had only one thing on my mind: get out of here. The one man, a tall African American guy had just snipped the stitch and was turning around to a table behind him. That’s when i decided to make my escape, I tried to jump up, but the muscle in my stomach was weak, and hurt from whatever it was they were doing, so I ended up rolling off the table. With a hard smack, i fell to the ground, the man that had been stitching me up quickly coming over to me. I backed away as far as I could, before i felt a pair of legs behind me, and saw that the man that had been watching me up was now behind me, and had wrapped his arm gently yet stiffly around my chest. I writhed and tried to stand to get away, but he held me in place.
“Curtis, where are your sedatives?”
“Next to the suture kit, on the table.”
I watched in horror as the medical man walked over to the table, eyeing me, and began filling up a syringe with clear liquid. I started crying when he began walking over.
“Please, please, please.”
The man with the boots looked at the man holding the syringe and then back at me.
“Sh, sh, sh, sh.” He whispered in my ear.
But despite his efforts to calm me, I was feeling anything but. The closer the man was coming with the needle, the more I felt my chest tighten, and the guy with the boots who’s arms were wrapped around me weren’t helping.
I felt a whimper escape my throat as I tried to cower against the man behind me in a futile attempt to escape the needle. I hated them in the best of situations, but now- now I was terrified.
The man behind me gently but firmly grabbed my right wrist and stretched out my arm. I tried to pull back, but I was shaking and he held a strong grip. The medical man brought the needle closer to my arm until I felt the pinch of the injection, and then watched in horror as he squeezed the liquid into my arm. I immediatly felt warm, starting in my stomach, and it spread thruough my arms, all the way down to my toes. My arm got heavy in the mans grip, and my head could no longer be held upright. It fell back against the man’s chest, and my vision became blurred as I looked up at the man who was now putting the syringe back on the table. And then, I was in the air. Being placed gently back on the metal table I had just jumped off of. I caught another glimpse of the man who had been behind me before my vision went black.