5
LO
I settled into the storage room. It was the
most stable night I’d had in years, but I still
couldn’t sleep.
Wrapped in the blankets, I huddled in the
corner, watching the fireworks explode in the
く
sky through the rusty window frame.
Every time they burst, I tensed up.
The war–torn slums never saw peace. The
fireworks, meant to celebrate reunions, felt
like another bombing raid.
Then came the death sentence.
The mercenaries stripped me naked and tied
me to a post in the empty countryside. They
lit explosive after explosive around me,
enjoying my physiological response to the
fear.
I begged them to let me go, or just kill me.
く
But they just laughed harder, looking
monstrous.
“The client said, as long as you don’t die, the
boys can do whatever they want.”
The leader showed me the message. The
sender was listed as Smith.
It was a number I knew well. When I was little,
Mom had made me memorize her, Dad’s, and
Jake’s personal cell numbers, so I could call if
I was in danger.
Now, that number had become a death
sentence.
<
I was frozen with cold.
At that moment, I lost hope.
I gave up…
6
