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Punch Here for Freedom

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When Daniel opened his front door that morning, he immediately regretted it.

Standing in his porch was his drug dealer, towering over him at 6’9” with shoulders as wide as cliffs, his furious grey eyes beaming down into his. Daniel, remembering the five figures he owed him, could only watch as his scarred knuckles homed-in right between his eyes.

Daniel regained consciousness still in the dark, only feeling the stinging of the mighty blow now. His woozy head still believed that he was in a dream, and his stomach felt frail and sick. When he realised he was fully awake, he snapped out of his trance, feeling himself lying down and cramped into a box.

Oh Jesus no, I’ve been buried alive.

He panicked and began flailing around, feeling the strong, thick wood that trapped him. He did this for a few seconds until he felt something slide off the top of his belly, and heard it fall on the wood close beside him. He felt around, and gripped a rubbery thin cylinder that was wide at the top. He picked it up.

A torch.

He rubbed his thumb up and down feeling for the switch, clicking it on when he found it. He shone the torch around on the brown slits of wood, confirming that had been boxed in somewhere alone. He shone it at the top, and saw a three line message written in black marker directly above him.

“You got lucky. Next time there’s no escape. Punch here for freedom.” Below that, there were three arrows in additional black marker pointing to a circle that was a lighter shade of brown to the rest of the wood.

Must be the world’s softest dealers, Daniel thought to himself, counting his luck.

Daniel clutched his hand into a fist, driving it into the circle as fast as he could. It didn’t break, but he could tell easily that it was by far the weakest point.

He tried this again, but was still unsuccessful.

One more should do it.

Daniel’s hand penetrated the top as water gushed down around his arm like a tap that was suddenly turned too hard. Daniel choked on the salty seawater that forced its way into his mouth and down his throat as it engulfed his face and body and chilled him to the bone.

Daniel desperately punched the top of the box with both hands slowly, the resisting water absorbing his force. Before he knew it, the box was completely full.

He banged with his fists and kicked with his legs, until his muscles weakened and gave in and his vision faded to black.



Written by CrashingCymbal
Content is available under CC-BY-SA

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