Thirty-Seven
The gravel moved under my feet and gave me an unsteady footing as I walked blind. One of the men held me by the shoulders from behind and pushed me forward. I stumbled over some divots and larger rocks on the ground. Each time I would have lost my balance, the hands steadied me. The hands must have belonged to Brett. After kicking the other man, I didn’t think he’d be motivated to keep me from hurting myself. I struggled against his grip. “Nice job. Just don’t push it too far,” Brett whispered in my ear. Metal rubbed against metal in front of me. The high - pitched assaulted my ears and made me cringe. “Stairs,” Brett commanded. I placed my foot out and felt for the step. I did this for a few steps before I reached the landing. “Doorway,” he said. I stepped up and over the lip and
- Writer
