The light from the camera is to bright. I can’t make out any faces in its yellow brilliance. I’m playing a waiting game that I’m sure to lose. I sit and stare into the camera lens reading what’s written trying to keep any panic from my voice. I’ve read this message so many times it is just a big long blur of ink in my memory. The gun to my head is a small comfort cause maybe one day he will pull the trigger. My mind starts to wander as they begin to beat me for added effect. What are my kids up to? Have they seen the video? Did she move on yet? Wonder if they are trying to rescue me? I’ve been here so long that it hurts to remember. But like I am to all forms of pain I am now completely numb. I haven’t felt anything since the first 4 months. They have beaten and raped and tortured me so many times a punishment worse than death will need to be thought of. Back in my cell they left me a gun with one bullet to kill myself with. I won’t use it though because I made a promise to my family that I wouldn’t do something to needlessly endanger myself. This promise it is the purpose of my existence. It is all I have in this cell.