“Unfortunately we will have to take all four of your wisdom teeth out, there’s just not enough room for them and we don’t want to chance infections. When should we schedule you?” That was the dentist, the nice one. Unfortunately I’ve turned 16 and as a part of growing older, I must have this surgery done like all my friends around me. They all say the same thing, I’ll be knocked out, it will just feel sore and it wont hurt that much, but for some reason I had bad feeling about the surgery. My mother and the dentist have decided that my wisdom teeth we be removed this weekend, in two days, hurray… the sooner the better I guess.
The days leading up to the surgery I ate as much as I could, I wont be able to eat anything for two weeks so might as well have it all now, at least that’s what I thought. The day of we drove to the hospital, we arrived with a few minutes to spare but they were already waiting for me and the room was ready, so without a break I went into the room.
The room was extremely white, the nurse sat me down in a chair that extended so I was flat laying down. They strapped my leg and arms to the seat as well as my head to the head rest, I assumed so I wouldn’t move while I was under. And IV went into my right arm and I began to feel cold in that spot, I could feel the anesthesia running through my arm to my brain. Ten seconds went by and I started to taste sugar in my mouth. Then I woke up. It was weird, the transition from going under to waking up, I had no dreams, no loss of sight, it just seemed as if the room around me changed in a blink, and what a change it was. I was still strapped to a chair, but I was sitting upright. There was a severe pain in my stomach. I was in a hospital gown, and the room around me was wooden, and looked like a wine cellar. There was only one light to illuminate my sight and it hung above me with a yellowish tint, still the room was dark, and very cold.
Footsteps were heard from above, then from across this musty room a light opened, then closed, and the creaks fo a wooden staircase began to sound off, and a shadowy figure walked towards me. The anesthetic was still in my system so I was dizzy, and funny still. The figure came into view and it was a man with a handlebar mustache. He was wearing a lab coat and had a small bag in his hand. He smiled, and my high a*s smiled back and then laughed. He laughed too, but it was more like a cackle. It was then I realised that my mouth hurt too. I tried moving it around but it wouldn’t move, it felt like it was wired shut, and eventually I can to realize that brass wires looped through my gums and lips to make my mouth closed permanently.
“I’m sorry but unfortunately I don’t get as much funding down here as I would up there,” he said. He began to reach for my stomach I the spot it hurt, my anesthesia began to wore off and I began to scream and shake.
“No one can hear you, you’re alone you know.” I felt his hand go through my stomach, he placed the small white pouch in there and then began to sew the cut up. I winced, the pain was to immense, however I was more worried about the infections I was going to receive, he wore no gloves, and the needle was all rusty.
“The bag I put in you is of cocaine, and you are going to deliver it for me, your driver will arrive shortly.” He got up and walked away as I screamed and begged more. As he left another figure came down, with a bat in his hands. I woke up in a moving vehicle with a splitting headache, I was handcuffed to the seat I sat in. I was alone, again in the cold and dark. I looked around and decided I was in the back of a uhaul truck.
After an hour the car stopped. Then the back of the car opened like a garage door, and light poured in. I was right, it was a uhaul. Two guys came to each side of me and carried the chair down and into a the empty storage area I was in. They sat me down, and a hand met my chin and lifted it up.
“Thank you for being my messenger,” a bald, rather large man said. He held a knife in his hand, and I couldn’t be more right about what happened next. He cut open the crappy stitches and reached inside for his bag of coke. I sat there bleeding out, however it wasn’t a lot of blood. After he had cleaned himself, he looked to some men who were around and nodded at them. They came in and took me away outside and chucked me in a fast flowing river.
I struggled, but I was still cuffed to the chair, then I saw a rock fast approaching me. I woke up on the side of a sandy shore. My only guess is that the river entered a delta and I was washed up ashore. I had no idea where I was. I felt sick, my stomach was still open, and I was bleeding minimally. I walked, for ever. Day turned to night and I didn’t find anyone. Then I reached a road, after so long I found some form of civilization. I saw lights, lights that were coming, I was to tired to wave it down, so I collapsed on the floor and woke up in the back of a car.
“You were in for one hell of a ride,” a man said, I recognized it, it was the dentist, the bad one. He explained to me that there was a tracker in my system and he found me through that. The men who expected my trade, the cocaine, wasn’t supposed to kill me but return me for more work.
For the next year I did multiple trades with people, using my body as an envelope and being the messenger for many. I became so adapted to the feeling of pain that it became lost for ever. My nerves were too far damaged to feel anything anymore, and the people who owned me used that to their advantage. Things were hidden in my arms, my feet, anywhere with skin, money, drugs, keys, you name it. My mouth was always wired shut, they told me it was so I never spoke and ruined their deals. However on one fateful day, during an exchange where I had to carve out some meth from my left shoulder, cops came in for a drug bust, and I was saved.
I was sent to the hospital only to find out that my voice box, a kidney and my gallbladder were gone, I guess I was also an organs dealer too. Unfortunately they could not take the wiring out of my mouth, for my gums and lips had grown over them, melded with the bronze. They gave me a choice, live with the wires for a couple of years so that they loosen and are easier to remove, or live without my jaw, so I kept the wires to remember what I did.
I am currently 19 and am searching, on my own, for my kidnappers. I’ve managed to loosen the the wires on my mouth and had a surgery to give myself a voice box. I’m now on the hunt with my girlfriend, who also happens to be a great nurse. Whenever I’m not searching for my kidnappers I am working with the police to do more drug busts and kidnappings. I live on so others can.
