<br/>I yelp as the blonde man yanks up my arms, trying instinctively to twist out of his grip, to little effect. I can feel the tension throughout my body, the need to run - but he shotgun is poking into my back, and now I'm handcuffed. If I'm going to get out of this, it will have to be later.<br/><br/>I start up the stairs reluctantly, testing the cuffs as I walk. It's so frustrating! One freak, bolted to the wall, ruining everything! It's not fair. Tears off rustration are blurring My vision, and I can't even get an arm up to wipe them... I sniff, trying to keep my face out of sight as I march upstairs. I have to get out of this! And when I do, these three will pay.