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Persistence

My eyes scanned the cold dark basement and I saw something glisten in the moonlight and my hope flared maybe this is my chance. I stretched as far as I could with my hands tied behind my back and to the wall. I reached my toe and barely missed the shiny object. I grunted in frustration and tried again. This time my foot caught it and I started to drag it toward me. As it came closer I saw that it was a large piece of a broken mirror. Yes! I thought.
While trying to cut off the ropes that had me held me captive, I remembered back to the Helena Regional Airport in Montana, waiting for my plane to Boston to begin boarding. I wish I knew what I know now because I could be in Boston instead of here in this horrid place. I thought back to how I got here and the mere thought of it made me want to slap myself. Why did I not see that I was in danger? Why did I not sense I was being watched?


“Excuse me I need to run to the little girl’s room. I’ll be right back,” I silently whisper to my boarding buddy that I would never see again. I quickly walk seemingly calm out of his sight and when he looks away I book it to the empty restroom and burst in making the door crash against the back wall with a BANG! I check all the stalls to make sure there wasn’t anyone here with me. I grab my faded black back pack and pull out the little black SD card and I put it in a container and I carefully place it in my mouth -to hide it-. This little thing looks like an ordinary memory card but you don’t know what lies underneath, never judge a book by its cover. I proceed to take out my fake ID, fake Passport, fake birth certificate, colored contacts, fake teeth, and hair dye and start to warp my appearance.


Once I was done and I was about to finish washing my hands my body reacts as if there was someone else with me, I look down and my arm hair was stands straight up and I fell a prickly feeling on my neck, like I can sense that someone was here. I continue to wash my hands so I could get out of the creepy, beat up old bathroom and proceed on with my mission.
My heart speeds up with adrenaline as I hear a noise, like a chain hitting a wall. CLANK. CLANK. There I hear the ominous noise again and I turn off the water and look around and see no one, I scan under the stalls and I see nothing. Whatever it is, it is beginning to freak me out. I’m not fit for this I thought.


I quickly dry my hands and I go to grab the door handle when I hear another noise, but this time it is different. It is like heavy footsteps hitting the tiled floor. I cautiously look back to see thick black heavy boots in the far stall. My gut feels with fear and that results to my body being paralyze so much that I can’t move an inch. I feel my knuckles straining from how hard I am grasping the door handle. I quickly compose myself and put on a show of indifference. I can do this. My hand loosens from the handle and I get into my fighting position, legs shoulder-length apart and my body slightly turned to the right with my hands up to block my opponent.



I see the leather boots move to open the stall door and this big tall man that is dressed in all black emerge from the bathroom holding a long thick rope, a syringe, and a huge black bag. The guy runs over to me and drops everything except for the syringe and my body tenses, ready for the attack.
Once his grimy hands wraps themselves tightly around my body I kick back with my right foot and elbow him in the chin. He loosens his arms just enough for me to get free but at the last second he grabs me, pulling me down to the floor and knocking the wind out of me. I aim my foot to his face and hear a sickening crunch, his nose gushed out dark velvet red blood. His face momentarily flashes with agonizing pain, then flips to fury.
I jump up, grab my backpack, and make for the door. I didn’t hear him get up and start for me again. He tackles my body down and I start to struggle but this time he manages to get a stronger grip on me. He quickly grabs my arm and jabs the syringe in and the clear liquid intrudes my veins, making me dizzy. My vision slowly blurs and my struggling ceases and I’m in the dark but I still can feel. It’s like I’m going blind.


My attacker grabs my arms and starts to drag me out of the bathroom and whispers in a deep raspy voice that would have sent shudders down my spine if I could move. “Where is it? Where is the...” Is he for real? He just shot me with a sedative how can I respond?


When I came to I realize I am sitting in a car with the windows thickly tinted. I groggily look around and I see that my arms are tied and so are my legs. So it really wasn’t a dream. I look up and my stomach drops. I see the man, my attacker, looking back at me from the front seat smiling an evil smile that showed his crooked yellow teeth. His hair was thinning by the scalp and he has a scar along his cheek running from his ear to the edge of his mouth, his eyes they are a deep wicked green and flashing with satisfaction and victory, probably from kidnapping me then getting this far.


I growl in anger and clench the broken mirror piece tightly. I could have fought back harder to get away from him. I could have done something to save myself. I could have noticed at least something wrong from the get go. In my anger I cut my way through the rope and I sighed in relief. I dropped the broken mirror and looked at my wrists they were red and raw from the rope rubbing and digging into my skin.
Okay now I need to find another weapon so I can have some chance to get past my attacker. I quietly rummage through the boxes that were left in the basement and found a wooden bat. This will do… hopefully… I thought as I start for the door of the basement.



My tongue probes my mouth making sure the SD card is still there. I need to protect this with my life; this chip holds the codes to activate the nuclear missiles. You probably heard of the president’s “Football” also known as the nuclear briefcase that was invented by Dwight D. Eisenhower, our 34th president. It became more known during the Cuban Missile Crisis with John F. Kennedy. My mission was to make sure nothing happens to this little chip and to make sure it is delivered to Boston safe and sound. My first objective now is that I need to get out of here first.
By this time I arrive to the top of the wooden stairs where the door is. I grasp the cold door knob and I slowly turn it. The door swings open and I take the first step toward my freedom. Here I go...





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