It was time for the morning ritual: Get out of bed, brush teeth, get dressed. Look outside window for the Military. Make sure they don’t see you.
It had been like this for years. Living underground, making sure nobody found out. I was trapped. I can’t go outside. I would be shot, dead, on the spot. What I did was inexcusable. What I did was preposterous. What I did was… dangerous. One cannot run away. You must face what you did. I feel the guilt, everyday, weighing down my shoulders. But I can’t go up there. I value my life, even if I didn’t value those of others.
I took a hostage. That’s the only reason why I’m still alive and the police haven’t banged down my door. They think he’s still alive. But I know the truth. HE knows the truth. He’s dead. I have been sustained by my ally in the outside world. Without him, I would —.
I hear a knock on the door. This is it. Time to make a stand. The door opens…