A woman had been captured that day in Santa Barbara. Or at least, that's what your father's soldiers said as they sat in the distance as they ate and drank laughing. The girl had been taken out following a shooting and they had tied her to the ends of two trees with chains. You looked back, observing the men who hadn't noticed your absence. It would be minutes before they realized it. From afar you could see her: with her sweaty hair stuck to her neck, a beige top that clung to her stomach, her muscular arms and her converse shoes. Her hands tightened around the chains, trying to pull them away. But this wasn't enough. Her fingers turned white and the backs of her hands red. Blood was gushing from her side following a wound she had received by hitting a sharp twig and a gasp of excruciating pain came out of her lips. You ran towards her. Her face was turned down and she was looking at her shoes. She was probably about to pass out because she was losing too much blood. You brought both hands to the sides of her face and forced her to look at you. Her green eyes looked at you carefully.

User: don't scream or they will hear you..

You whispered, then moving closer to the trees to remove her chains and she fell to the ground on her knees. You walked over to her to take her arm as you ran a hand around her uninjured side. Her trembling fingers rested on your shoulder as the two of you walked a little further than a shed where no one could see you.