The cold, harsh steel was pressed menacingly into my temples, serving as a reminder of the ever-present ever-growing fear. My vision became hazy as the tears welled up, my subconscious pleading with my tear ducts, afraid of showing weakness. The nervous sweat that had pooled at my hair line makes a path down the bridge of my nose, landing onto the papers scattered across the fold–out table. I looked down at the paper covered in formulas and math, my eyes then fluttered to the poor excuse of a microscope, and repeating the cycle.
“Any closer, sweetheart,” the man sneered, his disdain obvious through his tone, placing emphasis on his words by adding pressure to the gun barrel.
“No, but I’m trying,” I said willing my voice to stay even, my eyes never moving from the paper now that I was being addressed by my captors.
“Well I suggest you hurry up,” he states in a sickly sweet voice as he leans down closer to me.
“It is such a shame, such a beauty,” he says to himself, rancid breath fanning over my cheek, the tip of his pistol following the same path a few short moments later.
I refrain from pushing him away like I truly desire, aware that would mean the end of the line, even without getting what they wanted from me.
“One more day, then we will have to locate someone else to figure out what you can’t,” he said hoping for me to notice not only the undermining of my intelligence, but the underlying threat as well. However, what seemed to escape his underdeveloped thoughts was that I was buying time, getting equations wrong in hopes that someone would indeed notice I was missing.
I simply settle with a nod, a sigh of relief escaping when I finally noticed his form slink from the tent and the eerie silence settled around me once more. I put my head down on the desk, desperate for a way out; however, no possible scenario comes to mind in which I end up making it back to my pedestrian life. All seem to lead to the unavoidable downfall. I moved my hand over my sweaty forehead and turned back to the page I was working on.
I was being forced to come up with a formula for a nuclear weapon that my captors could use in order to get what they wanted from the United States government. I was merely a pawn in their plan, one that was easily disposable.
It was then when I heard a large noise in the distance. The noise that followed it were the screams of orders and the noise of feet slapping the ground as people began to run in chaos. A masked figure swooped into the tent grasping me by the arm and yanking me from the closest thing to a safe haven I have. I managed to grab the formulas and discretely shove them into my shirt as I was yanked harshly outside of the tent and rushed out of the chaos and down a beaten path.
“Hurry up” the voice urged, pulling me along faster. It was then that I noticed that the voice was not one I had previously heard during my stay in hell.
I was pulled along faster down the hill, stumbling my way to the water’s edge, where my newest captor lifted my small frame into a waiting canoe. They maneuvered in afterwards pulling the weight from the sand and pushing off from the bank. The nerves that had been pushed to the back of my mind suddenly swam to the forefront as the boat headed out deeper into the water. The fear quickly subsided when I finally saw the logo which was printed on the side of the boat we were approaching. US Navy.
I was being saved! The stranger across from me removed their mask quickly shoving it down into their bag before looking up at me.
It was then that another loud noise sounded, followed by a large explosion. The last thing I remember seeing was my savior’s deep emerald eyes before I fell into unconsciousness. However, the piercing shrills echoed through the darkness I was encased in before dissipating into the nothingness. I have grown accustomed to the still of the silence as the hostage camp was always strangely quiet. I floated in the deep abyss of blackness for what seemed to be an eternity. The sound of waves crashing on the beach soon floated through my mind, and I willed my eyes to open.