Sophie Panozzo, Grade 10, Holy Spirit College
Two solid Caucasian men dragged him through the iron door. He had tried to break free from their firm grip but he didn’t have the energy and there was no point putting up a fight. He looked desperately around the room. It was dark with one small window to let the sunlight in. It also smelt like rotting flesh and blood. The men pushed him into a wall so he was facing the red bricks, with his palms on either side of his head. The wall was cold and rough under his fingers. He thought of his family and friends. Where were they? Was he ever going to see them again? The door slammed shut and locked. The muscles on his back tensed as he heard heavy footsteps of a man approaching. He could hear and feel the beat of his heart in his throat and his jaw clenched. The cracking sound of the cat of nine tails mad him shiver from fear. He felt the leather lash on his back with a violent blow leaving his skin raw and bleeding. He let out a scream in excruciating pain whilst his nails dug into the wall causing them to bleed. Tears streamed down his face like gushing waterfalls. The pain increased when he was whipped a second time and then a third and fourth. The veins on his temples became visible as he bit his tongue till it bleed to fight back a scream. He attempted to open his eyes but tears blurred his vision. He stared at the wall, trying to focus on the grainy texture with all his might. He tried to ignore the pain and gain some courage and dignity. He would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him beg for mercy. He would rather die. He crumbled to the ground and lost consciousness and the lashes continued. A pool of blood formed beneath his battered and bruised form.