There are movements inside that bag

There are movements inside that bag

“There are movements inside that bag!” shouted a lady from a distance. Those are the words I captured as I strained to open my eyes without success. My whole body felt weak, hurt, and the head too heavy to lift. At last, my eyes opened, but I could see nothing other than total darkness. “Where am I?” my mind wondered. I tried lifting my arms, but they were too heavy and painful to lift. However, I could feel I was inside an enclosed space, but I could not see any apertures despite straining my fatigued eyes. My head ached so much that all I could think about was screaming at least to frighten the demons who could be dancing inside to give me a few minutes of relief.

“Keep a safe distance,” a commanding voice boomed. I strived to find an opening of the bag, but the crowd outside kept panicking with my every move. I felt scared and helpless, but I was determined to find a way out of it. As if a fairy had answered my wish, I felt a zip fastener and pushed the slider from the inside, and I felt alleviated. At last, the bag opened, but my dog-tired self could not manage to fully open it, for I felt too weak, and my arms collapsed back inside the bag.

Blinding light filled the open spaces, and I could no longer see, I ended up closing my eyes. There was panic from the spectators outside as I heard screams, shouts, and a million stamping of feet as the crowd tried to vanish. I felt confused, as I could not understand why people decided to run away. I could not think straight as nothing seemed to make any sense at that point. In the end, I gathered all that was left of my strength, and with shut eyes, opened the remaining half fastener. I managed to seat-up, but too much light made it impossible to open my eyes until to the point when they adjusted. I made to stand, but my body felt like lead, impossible to support.

“Don’t move! Put your hands in the air!” a voice commanded, and no matter how hard it felt obliging, I realized I had no other choice. On a closer look, I noticed that the police had surrounded me. I saw two walking towards me but all in protective clothing and learned that they were from counter-terrorism units. My mind could not think, and the confusion worsened when I discovered I was stark naked, covered with coded tattoos while the freezing temperatures outside the bag made me shiver. The thinking process was a strain, and I saved myself from the torture that came with it, so I decided to wait for whatever unfolds.

After weapon screening, the officers asked, “What is your name?”. I had never felt as befuddled before since I could hardly recall who I was. “Where are you from?” they kept enquiring but I could not remember a single detail, I kept saying incoherent things. “It is alright, we will find out, do not worry,” reassured one of them. “Do you know any Vasquez Johnathan in New York?” asked one of the officers as he pointed to a tag on my bag. I shook my head since the name never made sense to me.

“Put this on,” an approaching officer said as he handed me clothes. I felt warmer but still lost in my wonder thoughts. “I want you to accompany us to the FBI offices, which are some distance from here.” An officer told me, and I thoughtlessly obliged. They accompanied me to one of the police vehicles, and we drove all along in silence.

On getting to the destination, I was held in an interrogation room, where one detective after the other kept asking the same questions, “What is your name? Where are you from, any city, state? How did you end up at the Statue of Liberty and inside the bag?”. I had no answer to any of the questions, and they concluded I suffered from amnesia. However, one of the officers got impatient and asked me, “Do you think we are too naïve to join in your crazy act of another Martin Gero’s creation Blindspot?” (IMDb n.p). I could not comprehend what the officer meant, but I came to understand later that similar happenings had occurred to a Jane Doe of Blindspot.

A few days later, a family showed up in the ‘cell’ I was being held, and from the first instance, I would tell I disliked it. “Hello John Doe, here is Vasquez’s family from N.Y, does any of them seem familiar to you?” An officer asked me. “None of them, but my instincts point out they are not….” Before I could finish answering the question, the eldest male excitedly exclaimed: “Here is the future of humanity!”

“The future of humanity,” the phrase rang inside my mind.