”“Yeah! Let me call him.”Dicey placed a call to his fellow dance troupe member. “Hey, Dicey! What’s up?”“Hey, bish! You feel like some c...mpany?”“Like how.”“I hit up a guy I know in town. He’s catching a ride. The dude driving was hoping I had a friend he could chill with.”“Is he cute.”“Gurl, he sound thug as hell on the phone. Said he’s 5’10” and 160. Dark.”“You owe me. When are they coming?”“Soon. Get ready.”“Okay!”“Yeah,” Trayjon answered.“My friend is good to go,” Dicey shared.“Be dere in. For them, I am an object. My personality is not important. They are working on me, trying to fix me. I am thankful. No one is going to hurt me anymore. In this moment, I feel my left foot being lifted. Someone's strong hands are holding it. They clasp around it and push. At first, I am unable to understand what's going on. The pain overwhelms me. I feel bone fragments moving, grating against each other. I scream. The torture stops immediately. My foot is on fire. I open my eyes. A man is. More

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