I open my eyes to the sound of a car engine rumbling. Next to my ear.

No, its the reverberations coming through the floor. Of the car. A car?

It smells like molding bread crusts and empty beer bottles. Of alcohol and the drunken breath of drinkers.

I somehow manage to get to my knees and lean again the wall. I’m in the trunk of a van. Empty glass bottles roll around at my feet.

Crushed cans litter the floor, clanging like broken church bells.

I still feel winded and my head spins slightly in rhythm to the moving vehicle.

The other passengers in the front do not seem to realize that I am awake. All that I hear are the bouts of raucous laughter of drunken men and the off key lyrics of a drunken song.

The noise is unbearably loud. But I can’t cover my ears to block out the sound.

My hands are bound in front of me.