He pushes my head down, my neck bends awkwardly sending sharp pains down my back. Lights flash. Itβs happening. I hacked a wrong move this time.
βWatch yourself,β he grunts.
If I were watching myself I wouldnβt be here. Maybe I deserve this. How could that be though? Does anyone ask to be manhandled and thrown into a car? Hauled off to God knows where with no escape.
My chest is tight, I cannot breathe. The car door shuts and metal cuffs dig into my wrist.
βYou got some nerve, kiddo,β the officer says.
I want to call my mom.
Author’s Note: I went to a micro-fiction workshop recently and have really enjoyed the process. They had dice that you rolled and it would give you a prompt. Mine were Hacker, Bad Decision, Getting Arrested. This is the little story I came up with.
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