First Kill of Jason Bourne (Short Story)

A bag on my head a bag on my head I can’t see through it I don’t know if the material is black or it’s just the absence of all light oh God oh God it’s so hot I am drenched in sweat my hands tied behind my back a gag in my mouth my shirt drenched in sweat I was dragged around before feeling the sun feeling people drag me and push me I can sometimes hear voices but I don’t know what they say and where I am right now is on a concrete floor and it is cold but I still drip sweat and I wonder what I will do if this mask comes off I worry that they will just shoot me and I will not ever see the light again and I keep imagine a bullet going through the other side of me I am in so much shock would I even notice have I already been shot is this not sweat but blood how many moments of life do I have left; what does it befit a man to treat another as I am being treated; if the sides we’re reversed, would I be any different? Mother.