The bus was filled with people of all ages, everyone crammed in next to someone else. Guards sat in every other seat along one side of the bus.

No one knew each other.

Towards the back, next to a lady who kept rummaging through a bag, was where I sat.

We’d all been picked out randomly, told that we had committed some crime, something horrible. Yet, they never stated what that crime was. They didn’t tell us what we did, and, for some reason, no one asked. Except for me.

There was a guard in the seat across from the lady and me, and I badgered him ever since he put on the handcuffs.

“What have I done?” I pleaded. At that point, I was crying.

“You’ve committed a crime,” he said.

“WHAT CRIME ?!” I screamed at him.

The entire bus fell silent. Everyone was staring at me now, save the guards. Looking straight ahead, the guards’ faces were expressionless, even blase.

“How many times are you going to ask that?!” someone in the front yelled out.

They knew what they did.

I didn’t.