I haven’t heard the murmurs in a while. It could be days, but I have no way of knowing. My arms are too weak to reach the zipper, and I fear my eyes...have dulled too much to look at the sun-touched earth. Maybe they finally did leave me. I can’t blame them, much. All I hear now is the soft wind swishing against my turquoise atmosphere, and the sounds of those monsters. They wander around me, encircling me, making sure I never see those blue skies again. They haven’t tried to attack. Maybe I’m. In my mouthwas a red ball-gag because of which the only sound coming out was ammmpf.So how did I land myself in this situation?Well, I was an immigrant from India. I had come to Chicago in search forthe American dream. Desperate for a job, I had jumped on a freelanceassignment to go undercover and snap some photos in a club. Little did Iknow that the club was a front for a gangster called Pablo Gomez, who washead of a drug cartel.So anyway, some of his thugs caught me snapping photos, slapped. More

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