Walking through the small camp made goose bumps appear on Tony DiNozzo's arms. The rescue mission of his partner, Ziva David, had been a success. She was safe, unhealthy, but safe. He had decided to help patrol around the camp, making sure none of Ziva's captor, Saleem Ulman, followers were still alive.

Arriving at a small, brick building made him on high alert. Quickly entering the building, he drew his gun and snuck around a corner. A he stalked down the hall, something odd stood out to Tony.

It looks a prison. He thought to himself.

He quickly crept around another corner and into what seemed to be a jail cell. The door was opened, so he took slow steps inside and looked around. A lone mattress sat in the corner, the rest of the room, empty. Putting his gun away, he walked over the makeshift bed. Dirt and mud covered the top, the smell made Tony want to throw up.

Who could sleep on this?

He slowly lifted up the mattress, looking under to see the other side dirty as well. But a large gash in the covering made him look closer. Something black stuck out of the corner. He grabbed it and pulled. A small black note book jumped out, and fell to the floor. Picking up the now dust covered book, he looked it over. The outside was blank, no words showing what the inside contents contained.

Should I open it?

Finally making a decision, he opened the book and sat down, beginning to read.

Dear Diary,

Day 3

Nothing makes senses anymore. My life is filled with death and hatred when only some few weeks ago I was happy and full of love. No one cares anymore. I am alone in this world now. Tony… has all but killed me. Gibbs has abandoned me. Michael is dead. The people I cared for have betrayed me. Whenever I start to care, I loosen up; let my guard down, thing always go wrong.

I heard venting your feelings on paper helps you heal, helps you free yourself from your problems. Only writing in this…diary, could get me killed, shot, beaten, raped… but I had no other choice. I am alone in this world now, only my memories of past friends and family have kept me, let's say "alive". Life and death aren't in my hands anymore though. Any day they could come and kill me. I believe the only reason I have survived this long is due to the fact that Saleem thinks I know where some secret operatives are. He thinks I know important information about NCIS…

Tony could see NCIS had been tried to scribble out. He took a deep breath and continued.

NCIS… my time there had saved me for so long. Well, the people there are the ones who have saved me. They have supported me, loved me, and have gone through everything with me. They were my family. My true family. But that is over now. My only family is the dirt on the ground and he rats that run over my feet.

My life is gone. Somalia is a cruel place, and I can't wait to die.

Tony slowly closed the diary and leaned his head on the wall.

"This is Ziva's?" he whispered to himself in a sigh. Tony quietly stood up, brushed himself off and headed out the cell door, black book in hand.

Should I continue? Let me know!

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