the money I had borrowed from him to support my own drug habit. I couldn't afford to have that happen. "You work for me", Jack said. "And if you can't do the job right, you will be out." I feared being "out" because he knew everything about me; everything was in his name, or a false name. I owned nothing. I also had a pretty nasty drug habit, and I have to go through him to get what I need. I decided to tell the truth. I apologized at his feet for the missing money. This happened once before. His method of repayment is torture. Last time, I had to hold my hands on the electric stove for thirty seconds. There was only a hundred and some odd dollars missing then. Six hundred?? I turned to avoid his eyes. A rush of wind. Darkness. The door slammed and locked as I began to come to. I looked up. The light shone through the bottom of the door at the top of the wooden stairs, at the bottom of which I lay. The all too familiar feeling of warm wetness on the back of my head indicated blood. I shuddered to think of what he had hit me with. I strained to lift my head and peer at my surroundings. I knew it even before I could focus my eyes. The moist dirt floor, the smell of must, the cellar. The tightness in the room made me claustrophobic. I swore that I could feel my breath bounce off the wall, causing a breeze in my blood soaked hair. It was so cramped. My first instinct was to run up the stairs and bang wildly on the door. I tried. It was then that I realized that I would not move from the center of the room. The chain at my an

Some common words found in the essay are:
, OK Deeper, dirt floor, mind raced, six hundred, door slammed, jack found, drug habit, wooden stairs,
Approximate Word count = 1047
Approximate Pages = 4 (250 words per page double spaced)