Fucking N Cell Phone

I guess it was for a business deal with him [how ironic is that anyhow... family business needed to **** the treasures of the dark continent cause they just couldn't get by without the good stuff?] Anyhow, I had 'volunteered' to do some missionary work to further my education in the African culture. I certainly wasn't over there expecting to meet any one to marry and I'm damn sure it was the last thing on Michael's mind in such a setting... but things happen.Maybe they shouldn't.When I met the Knight family, maybe I should have just told all those ass- wipes to take their money earned on the hard working backs of... their 'slaves' and... and...The problem was; it was a lot of fucking money.Michael didn't really just seem so really all that bad either... like for a white boy and everything. After all, I had met him in Africa and he did seem to agree with me when I protested the upside down situation at the plant [not that I did as I should have and told him that the blacks should have. Basheera nodded and gave the other women some instructions. I understood a few words, but didn't understand the gist of what she said. I finished my breakfast and drank my coffee sitting there contentedly with them. That feeling of contentment bothered me some. I knew I should be totally focused on escaping but none of the SERE (survival, evasion, resistance, escape) training I had received had even remotely covered a situation like this. Yes, I was being held prisoner, but not in any military sense. I would try to escape if I wasn't rescued before I healed up, but I wasn't going to do it with violence. Meanwhile, the most I could say about my captivity was that I was being restrained while I healed.My day brightened even more when Basheera brought me in some clothes around mid-morning. She handed me a pair of olive green trousers and a t-shirt. The trousers were loose in the waist and about three inches too short but they would do; the t-shirt was a white rib knit wife-beater. While.
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