A Silent Tear --Sereenah

Sweat slowly rolled down as I sit with my foot chained up in a cold clammy room in utter confusion. How did I get here? I last remember walking out in the mall's parking garage to find my car, then all of a sudden I smelled something strange and a hand wrapped around my face. I search my pockets for my phone, but it's gone. Someone must've taken it. I look around to get acquainted with my surroundings. I hear the constant drop of water from a rusty pipe and the rats chattering. I see that I'm in a brick room with one beat up mattress that looks like it has history with all of its stains, wait is that blood? I shiver. Pulled from my surroundings, I tasted the warm irony flavor of my blood. I rapidly feel around my face to find the source, and feel a large gash on the side of my forehead. I’m surprised it took me this long to find it. Quickly trying to stop the flow of blood, I take off my undershirt and tie it tightly around my head. 'Ok,’ I say to myself, 'it's time to get up and see what I've gotten myself into'. I get up and look around and feel a rush of pain and fall dizzy. So I guess that's not an option. I stick with just my eyes. Squinting, I try to make sense of the darkness. In the far corner I see the back of someone's head. "Hey,” I whisper, "do you know what's going on?" No response. I try again. "Hey,” I say louder “maybe we could both help each other, but you have to talk to me.” Still no response. Maybe they’re sleep? I need to wake her up, but how? Squinting to see in the dark, I find a small rock. There, that should do it. I throw it fast to try and get their attention. The person falls backwards with a thud. "Oh my gosh I'm so sorry I was trying to get your..." That's when I notice it. The deep gash in the middle of her throat standing so starkly against her dark skin. She was dead. My whole body trembled with terror. I panicked. “HELP ME!” I screamed. “SOMEBODY HELP." I hear footsteps fall down stairs, getting closer and closer to where I am. I say a prayer to whoever is listening that somebody good comes into this room. I know it’s just wishful thinking, but still it brings me a sliver of comfort. I hear the door swing open and my eyes squint to adjust to the newfound brightness. "Well I'm glad you’re up, I thought you would sleep forever," the voice said sinisterly. "I see you met my friend, I wasn't so creative with her, but I plan on taking my sweet time with you.” he says humorously. I need to get out of here. I look around one last time to see if anything can help but there's nothing. He's in the room completely now. I see his cold dark eyes and stringy hair soaked in sweat clinging to the side of his head. I notice the swastika tattoo right in the middle of his chest. “I'm going to rid the world of you people, one by one if I have to. No one's going to stop me either, you see the news they don't care if you guys are killed, and neither do I.” I go to scream. To yell in disagreement with him. Of course people will know if I’m missing and of course they’ll care when I’m dead. But the words fall in my throat. He’s right. I do see the news, and he’s absolutely right. They don’t care and they never will, just like him. Silent tears fall down my face as I accept my reality. This is how I end. #DevonSmith.