Stop the tears, stupid. Tears will get you nowhere. Wishing will get you no where. Regrets will get you no where.

Who am I kidding? Nothing I do will get us anywhere! After all, how many other prisoners had set their minds to escaping, only to find there was no escape and die in one of these... dens of evil?

I have no idea what I'm doing or where we are. Chris has no idea what he's doing or where we are. An unsettling thought forms in my throat and gurgles down into my rumbling stomach.

If you run, you'll probably end up dead. If you stay and do whatever the monsters want, you'll probably end up dead. And Chris is right. If you make a show of force, you may get killed on the spot.

It's like I'm choosing how I want to die. Most girls my age are only concerned with choosing a prom dress.

I have to stop thinking like that. We will get out of this mess, alive and well.

I swallow the lump in my throat only to have it reappear instantly. I glance over at Chris as he sits in solemn silence. Turning my head the other direction, I observe Ayana. Her hands squirm against the ropes and wooden pole and her lips move, although I can't hear a sound coming from them except the occasional whimper.

I suppose she is mute, like her teacher said. Cocking my head, I rack my brain, confused.

"Ayana!" I call softly, only hoping I pronounced it right, more or less. When she doesn't turn towards me, I call her name again, with a little more force. She shows no sign that she heard. I relax again, as much as I can in my current situation.

I guess she is deaf and mute. But then, why didn't her teacher know that?

Whatever. Those are questions for another time. Right now, I have to think about how we're going to get out of here, and how we're going to find our way back.

I can barely think, my doubt is so loud.

You're crazy, you're stuck here for life. Get used to it.

It hurts so much. Everything in me wants to scream, to make the doubting and the mocking of my own thoughts shut up.

Something dawns on me. I have to wait to see what the soldiers want with us, how they treat us, when and where we sleep.... We have to figure out what their plan is is keep us in, so that we can find he weak link and break out.

It seems such an obvious observation now that it came to me. But with everything that's happened already, my brain was not willing to think straight. We're going to have to be strong through some of this. I look up at Ayana. Chris could take it, even I could but such a young girl? Who's seen so much? And what about the old lady? She's so frail. But it would rip me apart to leave any of these people behind.

I push and push the thought that we'll have to leave the old lady here if any of us are going to escape. There has to be a way. There just has to.

         ___________________

The hours roll on. The soldiers that kidnapped us sit a little but in the distance, laughing their wicked, menacing laughs. My whole body tenses with the desire to give them a piece of their own medicine. I wish I could yank my hands out of these tight bounds and....

Ugh. I've never felt this way about a person before. But gosh, darn it they deserve it. Right?

Before I get the chance to convince myself that I should at least remember that I don't know everything about them, they get under my skin again.

The two men that took us are fairly skinny, but as we all discovered, they're extremely strong too. I decide to name them. You have no idea how much I wanted to name them after cuss words... I manage to refrain and just call them Weirdo and Freak which isn't much of a step up but whatever.

Weirdo roughly unties me and yanks me to my feet. I literally almost knee him in he gut right there. But the thought of my sisters... Everything Chris said... Gah! Well let's just say, he knows how to get me to keep my act together.

A bittersweet feeling falls on me like a single gentle wave during a howling storm. All the times Chris has gotten me out of trouble just by saying the right things rush through my head. A smile lingers on my lips even as tears beg to be released from my eyes. Weirdo continues to push me.... While Freak pushes Chris in the other direction.

Crap.

Crap, crap, crap.

They're separating us.

Crap, crap, crap. That's all my brain can think.

They must've caught on quickly to the fact that we're not from around here and made sure we couldn't make plans; having the advantage of a "secret language."

Well... Crap...

I strain my neck to try to try and catch a glimpse of Chris. He's doing the same, looking back at me with wild eyes as we're dragged away from each other.

"WE'LL GET OUT OF THIS, CHRIS!" I cry, despite my better judgment.

Weirdo frowns and slaps me- hard. I stumble but manage to stay on my feet. I huff and start marching where he's taking me.

Now you may never see your sisters again and you may never see Chris again...

Shut up brain!

We are going to get out of here. We're going to get ourselves and Ayana home.

The walk to where I end up isn't long. We soon approach a little shack with a boulder right by the door. It looks like it would collapse in on itself if you so much as poked it with your pinky finger.

Weirdo roughly stops me right in the doorway as if inviting me to take a look around. All I notice is a figure, hunched in the corner of the small room. Not two seconds after I notice the young person that shares my fate, Weirdo kicks me forcefully in the back of my knees, holding nothing back. I gasp in surprise and land, smack on my cheek. Weirdo pushes what I assume is the boulder over the entrance as I struggle to get to the sitting position.

I let out a rather high pitched grunt of frustration. The person in the back stirs just as I get myself upright.

"Nnyabo?"

The raspiness in the voice startles me.

"Nnyabo? Kale?"

I purse my lips and awkwardly scoot on my rear end over to the source of the voice. Hoping that my race might be a hint that I can't speak this language and put myself in front of her. I now see that it's a young woman, perhaps only a little older than me.

I offer her as much of a smile as I can muster as she sits herself up against the wall and begins inspecting me. She squints in the dim light. Her eyes go wide very quickly, however.

"I... I'm American," I offer, wondering if she'll understand.

She nods vigorously. "You speak English then?"

My jaw drops with complete exhilaration at the fact that this woman speaks English. I nod enthusiastically. "How much English do you speak?" I ask.

"Enough dear, enough," she says with a wave of her hand and a smile that reminds me of that of a sweet grandmother. But it suddenly fades as she looks at me with pain in her eyes.

"How have you come to such a place as this?" she asks gently.

I sigh. "That's a long and... Complicated tale," I say, not sure why I used the fancy word.

She furrows her eyebrows. "I do not know this word... Taaaalle?

I glance up at her. "A tale? Oh it's... Like a story?" I offer.

"Ah," she nods.

"Well," she starts, with a half-joking, half-solemn look, "We are going to be here for a while."

I stick my foot in the dirt floor and offer her a weak smile. She waits in silence and it takes me a while to realize she actually wants to hear how an American ended up a slave on Uganda.

I clear my throat and try to find words when the sound of Rick against earth interrupts all thought. A woman is pushed in, sobs escaping her throat as she cries out, begging for... Something.

"OMUWALA! OMUWLALA!" she cries desperately.

My eyes squint in the dark. I realize soon enough that it's the same woman that I encountered earlier. The one that was so tender to Ayana.

"What is she saying?" I ask the lady next to me. My spine shivers as the woman's mournful cries pierce the once quiet space.

The young lady responds quietly. "She cries for her daughter."