Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
OCTOBER 10, 1995| Bogota, Colombia 5:27am
Rain. It was dark.
I remember. I remember.
The clear liquid passing through my brown-fingertips, straighten hair becoming damp for not a care in the world.
I remember. I remember.
Sirens fell behind my small frame, the array of fire gusted the tight— but spacious sleek narrow rode.
Several screams hitched through the Forest grounds causing my frail frame to willow and whimper. See, I didn't know what was going on and who were the people reaching their hands out the vehicle, begging for help. For God himself. They'd looked familiar. Too familiar.
Shadows under the car peeked.
"Get him out the car!"
"Nooo."
The woman that held the same eyes as me cried louder.
"Lena I'll be fine, look at—"
A man. An evil unknown man.
Pushed the dark skinned man on the muddy ground with a sharp kick, took me by surprise. Following a double kick to the head shaking and pushing the body upward; the evil man pressed his gigantic boot over the lower back brutally. Finally dragged him around the car with a struggle, since the hostage man didn't wanna corporate.
I was frozen.
"Beat him." One deep voice crashed the forest.
"No don't hurt him. No."
"Shut up!" A loud smack echoed. The woman head whipped backwards in the back seat. She was tied up, hair matted with crimson colors that fell beyond her full lips.
"We'll give you anything. Please!"
"I said shut the fuck up." Unraveling a box like object that he held in a duffel bag, fixing it, he seemed focused. Somehow my ears perked as the guy told the other one that it was dangerous, but the outraged one didn't care to hear. The guys meaty fingers covered in blood clicked a way in a timely manner. Planting the ticker toy on the steel car.
