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TITLE: "Why Am I Here?" AUTHOR: Andrew Jones DATE OF PUBLICATION: Not published, written Fall 1998 "Why am I here?" This is the question I've asked myself thousands of times but still can't come to a reasonable solution. Why am I in this dreary, damp prison cell? After racking my brain over these questions it still seems as hopeless as it did two months ago when I got here. There just doesn't seem to be a way out of this mess. Maybe if I start from the beginning it will make more sense. It must have started when I was running to the store to pick up some milk one night and on the way out I saw a sweepstakes for an all-expenses paid trip to Mexico. I immediately filled out the form and signed it; little did I know that I was signing away more than I bargained for! I later received a formal letter in the mail informing me that I had just won a free trip to Mexico! They later sent me two plane tickets and some brochures. I live alone so I invited a friend that I have known for a few years. I chose him because he was the only friend I had who knew Spanish fluently. We soon departed the States for our final destination. The small plane arrived at a seemingly abandoned airport. I woke my drowsy companion and we exited the aircraft. It was getting dark out and we headed for the nearest building with a light on while the other passengers stayed in a nearby empty shack apparently waiting for rides. Oh, why didn't I fall into conformity and stay with them? We walked into the shabby, old building and my friend asked around for information about our tour guide. The only responses we got were funny looks and a few stares. It was now a few minutes after the blazing sun had set and I heard our plane's engines start up. I ran to the door and I could see my plane lift off with all of my belongings! I can't remember much after this point. The only thing I do remember is some yelling in Spanish by a very loud voice and my friend nervously saying a few words apologetically, then some pain in the back of my head and everything else is all black. When I woke up, I was in so much pain that I passed out again. I regained consciousness and observed the room around me. I was huddled on the floor of a dark room with bars on the window and door. Suddenly, I realized that I was all alone, unable to walk, and my friend was gone! As the days went by I slowly realized through conversations between guards that I was being charged with the murder of my friend! I tried to ask for a phone, but apparently there isn't one and they won't allow me to write home. I have come to the conclusion that no one knows where I am in Mexico, so I am at the mercy of the Mexican authorities. I can do nothing but wait, wait for tomorrow, wait for hope. |
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