Not even China
You are in a waiting room, sitting on a stained mauve couch. Opposite you is a sign written in a foreign language. Scattered on the floor are screwed up cigarette butts and little splats of red stains. You look down. Someone has tied your hands together with a thin metal wire.
You hear Someone walk up to you from behind, but before you can turn around, they shove a sack over your head and pull you out of your seat. They take you somewhere. React how you imagine yourself in this situation, because you are living it. If you are trying to escape from this person who has you grabbed under your pits, it won’t work. There is no escape.
He / she sits you on a chair and begins to chain you up. There is more than one person assisting. Again, there is no escape. One of the thugs rip the sack from you head. The room is dark. You cannot see anything. Someone whispers in your ear. They smell sour. “You’re about to feel some serious pain,” says the source of the pungent smell and bandages your mouth with aggressive force. You cannot talk. You cannot move. You cannot see.
You hear a pair of heavy boots walking away from you toward the opposite end of the room. You can hear the metal attached to the boot clink as he / she walks. The sound echoes. You can tell the room is a large empty pit. The pair of steely boots runs towards you, and before you know it, your mouth is filled with blood. At least four pairs of boots pummel your body, stomping on your jaw, even. Someone sits you upright because you had fallen.
You feel something slash the air next to your face. You hear laughter. They take your shoes off and snip the tendons in between the smallest toes on the left foot, on the left most side. They do the same to your hand. You feel scissors snip and burst a large part of your lip. React how you will. You hear two pairs of heavy boots walking away from you towards the opposite end of the room. The cycle of torture continues, over, and over, until they leave nothing between your fingers and toes but a few flimsy tassels of skin.
You wake up in your home wrapped in bandages. They have taken your valuable possessions and everything you love.
You know your body has been through the worst torture in your life thus far. Yet it’s time to move on. You do, taking however long you think you’ll need to take. Choose your time honestly and continue reading.
A little, or a lot of time has gone by. You have rebuilt your life and pushed the torture memory deep into a corner of your mind. You had once been through a great tragedy, a great suffering. But you have survived. Your body has renewed itself.
A week goes past, and you get a phone call. A cracking voice tells you that tomorrow you will find yourself in a waiting room with a familiar sign on the wall, sitting on a familiar mauve couch. React how you will. You know you cannot escape this. You have learnt that the people who like to torture will find you, as they did the last time. There is no escape. The voice reminds you:
“You have been through torture before.”
The next day, as promised, you find yourself sitting on the same mauve couch and staring at the same foreign language sign. Someone has tied your hands. There is no escape. Now here is your question:
A person takes you to a room where they bind you down and whisper in your ear, “you’re about to feel some serious pain.”
Are you more or less scared than the first time you heard this?