Hours spent thinking. They left me with no other choice in the dark and dusty room but to reconsider my deeds from my past.
The more I got hungry, the more my mind reflected on my sins from the past. It reminded me of the time of my high school. The boy I used to bully, Nathan. The claustrophobic nerd fainted when I locked him in the similarly dark and dusty storeroom of the school.
I remembered his sorrowful screams when I screamed for my captors to feed and free me. My dignity scatters every time I ask them for food. Never in my twenty-five years of living have I begged for something.
It was torturous, humiliating when I looked at the two buffoons and had to request them. My endurance capacity will soon burst, though.
Human minds tend to bring back happy memories during our saddest moments. The more I think about my family, the more I want to cry.
Along with the headache, I felt dizzy and dreadful the more I stared at the empty walls. My surroundings spin as I started to drift towards unconsciousness before I closed my eyes.
Mocking laughter awoke me. I was no longer on the chair but lying on the oily floor; it smelled like death. I noticed pairs of legs surrounding me in a circle, and I looked up to meet unfamiliar faces.
Same attire-wearing men look down at me, disparaging me in their heads as I helplessly lay on the floor. My exhausted body is already ready for the upcoming tragedy. My hands and legs free from any restraint, and my subconscious mind forced me to get on my four.
I shake with my arms, and my ankles ache from remaining in the same position for days. I smelled like a gutter, but I contained my nausea.
My feet staggered with my eyes half open and my mind trying to shut. I received a roundhouse kick as soon as my feet support me; I collided with the floor.
Another normal kick attacked my abdomen, followed by kicks on my chest and face. I covered my face, but my body was still bare to them. I lost count after ten kicks from all the different directions and men.
My whimpers and cries were unheard of to them. I felt vulnerable and hopeless. I was starving, crying, praying for them to stop. I endured the beating until I felt completely numb as if time stopped for me and before they knocked me out in the cold.
I would blame the situation for the sudden hallucination, or maybe I was just dreaming after passing out from all the violence used on me. The said flashbacks or my acknowledged sins came to me in the moment of my numbness.
Nathan's screams filled my bloody ears as I left a sigh. Their laughter died in the background as I could not unseen the dead eyes of the brunette nerd mocking me.
His bloodied body lay next to me, with dead eyes staring deep within my soul, just like years ago he did. No words come out of my mouth, but the situation like this, that once I used to find my bliss in, seemed like a punishment to me.
Just how I tortured, humiliated, manipulated others. I could see it all coming back to me undesired.
My white shirt underneath my suit jacket started sticking onto my skin, and it became damp from my blood. They never stopped; perhaps I stopped breathing for a moment from the impact of past images as the regret beat me the most.
Their punches and kicks did not hurt me anymore, but my sins did. I stopped protesting and endured it all, thinking as if god must be angry and punishing me.
Involuntarily, a traitor tear must have escaped. I felt its wetness traveling from the left eye towards my nose before dripping and disappearing into the oily floor.
I am sorry Nathan.
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