LEILA
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I was lying bound while feeling so helpless the rough texture of the ground pressing against my cheek.
My wrists and ankles burned where the plastic ties bit into my skin, tight, unforgiving.
The pain in my ankle was a dull roar beneath the sharper agony of my restraints, but it was all secondary to the sheer, overwhelming terror that held me captive.
Lying on the ground in the middle of a goddamn war zone orchestrated by the man who stood over me, his face grim, focused on the fight happening around us.
They were still shouting commands, cries of pain, the relentless roar of weapons discharging.
My body trembled, and I squeezed my eyes shut for a second while the motion felt so futile and in a more desperate way, trying to block out the horrifying sights and sounds
