You

You are lying in bed one morning. Your eyes ignite with life as they rapidly try to adjust to the light making its way through a tiny sliver between the curtains. Wiping away the crust from you eyelids, you scratch your head as you make your way to the kitchen. With your stomach grumbling, your instincts take over and your arms autonomously reach for the cold box along the wall. Water, eggs, milk, a single beer, and various condiments sprinkle the interior of your fridge. Taking a sip of water, you breathe a light sigh; closing the door, you decide to go out and get something to eat.

In the span of ten minutes, you hop in the shower, put on a clean set of clothes, and make your way out the door. Entering your car that's seen better years, you breathe a little life into her; just enough so she can get you to where you need to go, and then back home. Your wheels make a light screech as your engine purrs down the busy streets lined with morning commuters. Light honking fills the humid air, but you keep to yourself as you try to make your way to the McDonald's further down the street. The distance between you and the satiation of your hunger begin to close in, inch by inch.

But then a loud ring comes from behind you, and you feel your heart rise and sink like a roller coaster. You don't even need to look at your mirrors to know what approaches; not even the lights reflecting off your car are necessary to realize what's going on. Slowly and carefully curbing yourself to the side of the road right just a yard away to the entrance of those Golden Arches, you make your foot like lead on the brake. Keeping your hands on ten and two, you try to calm your breathing as a man swings open his door and approaches you. As if they were the longest ten seconds of your life, you feel your anxiousness blow through your body as a tight wrap hits your window. Slowly moving your left hand to roll down the window, you stare nervously as the man looks down at you. His face is one of bemusement, as one hand rests on his hip and the other on his pant leg.

"Do you have any idea why I pulled you over," he asks blankly. There's no sign of emotion coming from his wide Ray Bans that rest on his nose.

You slowly shake your head, and your mind races to try to figure out why you were pulled over.

"Your brake lights weren't working."

Your mind rewinds to this morning as you were about to leave your driveway. You recalled your brake lights working as you began to put the car in drive, but you decide against saying anything to the man.

'Perhaps the lights went out from the time I left to right now,' you try to rationalize in your mind.

You stare up at the man, helpless and a little loss for words.

"Can I see your license and registration," the man asks, bored.

Without much of a second thought, you begin to comply. Taking both of your hands away from the wheel, you reach inside the dashboard of your car. You fumble around as you try to find your registration, and your current anxiety isn't helping. Items spill out as you look, and about a second later, you hear a shout from your left.

You look back to see the man frantically shouting at you, telling you to exit the vehicle and put your hands in the air. Your anxiety turns into fear, and you begin to sweat as you reel your hands from the dashboard and proceed to open the door. As you begin to stand, you see that you're taller than the man by maybe an inch or two. Keeping your hands up in the air, you look across at him. He instructs you to put your hands on the hood, which you do. As you stand there, he begins to search your clothes; once he begins to pat your pocket, he begins to shout once more.

Shouting for you to get on the ground, you begin to comply. However, as you do so, the man begins to reach for your hands that are still above your head. He forces them behind your back as he kicks the back of your knee, causing you to keel over. Amidst the confusion, you begin to struggle a little as he tightens his grip on your wrists.

"Stay down dammit!" the man shouts over and over, adding more and more curse words with each shout. 

My mind does loops as it tries to understand what exactly is going on. You're in a lot of pain, and it's not getting any better. The man on top of you isn't loosening his grip. You try to relax a little in order for the man to stop applying so much pressure, but he isn't paying attention. In a state of utter agony, you begin to shout back.

You aren't trying to resist.

You aren't trying to escape.

You aren't trying to hurt him.

His shouts grow even louder, but eventually you feel his grip start to loosen. 

'Perhaps he's finally listening after all. Maybe he finally sees that I'm not going to do anything. Maybe this will all be over so-'

Your senses begin to dull and your eyes flutter as an intense ringing echoes through your ears. Your vision begins to focus in and out, in and out. You want to figure out what happened, but your mind isn't working at the speed it once was. The only thing you can do is lay there, staring at the ground beneath you. As your vision slowly loses all focus, you see a body of red liquid begin to pool around you.

Before your eyes close, you can't help but wonder what just happened. Why did a trip to get breakfast turn into this. You thought you did everything you were supposed to. You weren't trying to cause any harm - you just wanted breakfast. How could this happen? 

But then, you remember something very crucial.

You are black.