“What is this thing?” I asked, after looking to my right and left. In the faint light coming from under a door at the other end of the room, I had seen my hands sticking through some kind of wooden contraption. I can’t lift my head or pull my hands out. I’m stuck. No! I realize I’m not stuck, I’m restrained, a prisoner. I can feel my knees digging into a piece of wood or something and they hurt. I feel something binding my ankles as well.[…Join our membership to read the rest of this story.] Join Membership
This story was written by Jessica Wilson.