I woke up what I assumed to be hours later, by myself, with a screen over me. There was a man on the screen, who I recognized as Phillip McAllen, our current tyrant president, repeating, alhtough I couldn’t tell if it was aloud or in my head, “We must remain silent.”

Hypocrite, I thought. You can’t say ‘be slient’ while remaining silent. I yawned—silently. didn’t want to get in trouble AGAIN . Judging from the tape and the pain in my ribs, I’d slept through the first beating. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

Too late. They were rushing in four at a time and, despite my lack of resistance, dragged me(quite roughly) to a large room painted a deep crimson, more than likely to hide the blood. I had affectionately nicknamed it “Hell.” I closed my eyes tight in preperation for the second beathing once I saw them grabbing shovels. A nice, quick blow to the head and I was out cold.

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