From: James Patten <jamespatten@rcsnm.org>
Date: Thu, Feb 18, 2016 at 11:02 PM
Subject: James Patten
To: Seth Weidenaar <sweidenaar@rcsnm.org>
Marcus Spencer couldn't see. His vision was blinded by a screen of darkness. All he could feel were his sore and exhausted feet. He lost track of how many miles John forced him to walk. Marcus heard the murder something, and within a short second, John hit Marcus to his knees. The bag was lifted and all that could be seen was a glare of brightness. His eyes eventually adjusted to the harsh desert landscape, but he refused to see it. He finally opened his eyes when he felt John touch the side of his face. The hot metal almost signed his face. He turned his glance and saw three middle eastern men. They had long beards, and clothes that were almost as stale as their faces. Two held worn busted machine guns. The other had a camera from the 00's that looked almost broken. He wasn't sure which gun was John but he liked to think that the man on the right was holding it. He was rushed back into reality by hearing the commands of the man on the left. In broken english, the man kept asking for money.
"For the last time, I don't have it!", Marcus cried out. Tears trickled down his face. The man with the camera dragged Marcus over a couple feet. It was at that point that Marcus accepted what he saw. He was on the edge of a thirty foot cliff. Sand from the ledge dropped down the straight drop as marcus wondered if it was worth the jump. As he looked up, he saw that all three men were in position. The man on the left pointed his gun to Marcus's skull, and the man on the right followed suit. The camera man moved behind Marcus, and began recording. "I could make that jump.", thought Marcus. " I may break a leg, but I could crawl to the car that carried me…" And a burst of gunshots went off.
"Sir, you won't regret it!"
"The tickets are really that cheap?... But i've heard that it's not too safe."
"Yes!" said the salesman. "Come on, you two are young, it's 2009 and this country has some extremely beautiful spots!"
Marcus glanced at his fiancee with excitement. The couple was inside a mall, and was approached by a self proclaimed travel advisor.
"Alright, why not. Let's do it!" his fiancee said.
After the shots, Marcus awoke. Both men had miraculously shot each other. The third man was nowhere to be found. Marcus looked behind him and saw more people chasing after him. "John is your friend" His mind echoed, "John is your friend. Marcus picked up the gun, and started knocking down each figure one by one. Some tried to attack, and some ran away, but Marcus couldn't stop. Eventually, all the men were gone and Marcus's head began to scream. He dropped the gun and fell to his knees in agony. It sounded like fingers on a chalkboard amplified to 100 in his skull. He started to feel blood go through his nose, but he didn't dare to check. Marcus jerked back and tumbled over the cliff. "I can make it to her." he thought. "I was just taken from the alleyway, I can remember my way back." Marcus heard a crunch. He couldn't move. All he could see was brightness.
He could smell her hair. It touched his face, and shaded him from the scorching sun. "How did you find me?" he said. "We're made for each other, of course I did." Marcus got up, and tried to kiss her….
Marcus was shot by two brothers at gunpoint and recorded by a third. He was taken hostage because he was an American citizen, and shot to death because the American Government would not pay the money that the three men requested.
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