Jack was being seated on a rusted iron chair with his hand cuffed on the back of the chair. It seemed to be a room where prisoners were being tortured. He could see there, iron clamps with their ends being attached with fine electric wires. There, he could have seen thumb forceps, sharp erasers and blazing cutters to make the room appear more ferocious. He felt numb at the sight of the room. He wasn't afraid of the room or anything torturous in it. He was aware of his rights. He was just an accused person not a convicted offender. But the thing that was making him uncomfortable was the stringent flashlights, in front of him, placed a little higher on the ground, blinding his eyes like hell. That sharp light coming out of the light box was focused on his face and the heat it produced was unbearable for Jack.
He wanted to shriek out loud that "you cannot lay a finger over me, I m a respectable citizen of America" but he couldn't. This torment felt like everlasting to him. That sharp, skin-burning light started blinking suddenly and went off with an unclear splash. He could not see anything for a brief moment. When he retrieved his sense of sight, he saw those similar faces.