Incarcerate

Entry One

Entry One

07-06-2012

It’s dark, probably past midnight. I don’t get a chance to write too often because they are always watching me. Someone is always with me. I’m a prisoner after all; the hunted.

They hit me, kick me and shove me. No one so much as talks to me in a soft voice. I’m like an animal prodded and tortured in the confinements of its cage; there’s just no way out of it for me. We have been travelling down south for the past three days, changing from one truck to another. Right now, all these hooligan men around me are snoring peacefully yet I stay awake because I’m freezing due to the harsh South African cold. It is penetrating through my already dirty and torn shirt and seeping into the very marrow of my bones. They snatched my coat and boots away, just for the fun of it. They all walk around in enviously warm clothes and entertain themselves by watching me shiver. They feed me cold porridge that can barely slide through my throat while they sit around fires and have hot, steaming soup. My kidnapper hasn’t uttered a single word to me other then ‘eat’, ‘drink’ and his personal favorite, ‘don’t try anything stupid, they’ll kill her.’

Sometimes I catch him staring at me, not with his usual troubled eyes but with something more like curiosity, as if he’s wondering what I’m doing here or maybe he wonders what he’s doing here. He scares me the most. Not because he’s hit me or abused me in any way, it’s his silence and the air of authority that scares me; it constantly feels like he’s planning, analyzing and ready to snap the deal with one order from whoever we are going to.

We are going down South to meet the said boss, though I have no idea who he is. No one talks of him much, just the occasional mention of the orders he has passed. He must be something big, he has to be, otherwise I doubt he’ll have the effect he does on these men. They all quiver at the very mention of his name and I quiver at the very thought of what he’d do with me, even I know it wouldn’t be as easy as they make it sound in books. It’s going to be horrible and I can feel it.

These men grope at me and touch me with hungry evil desire but no one has made a move to do more yet. This frightens me because I think I know exactly why; the boss wants me untouched.

It’s getting too cold for me to write anymore, its hard holding this pen with such trembling hands and I think I just saw my kidnapper move. Have to hide this book, otherwise they’ll take it and I’ll have no hope.

-End of Entry

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A/N: Hey guys!! here's the first chappie for those of you who are reading!! i know it's a little short, but i promise they get longer with time:)

please, PLEASE read and give me your very honest feedback.... comment, vote and show me a little LOVE....

oh, and i'll try posting everyweek...

Cheers,

Dodo