Ghosts

3) Locked Away

The car continues down the streets of Chicago for what seems like hours. I'm hyperaware of my surroundings with the blindfold covering my vision, my attention instead drawn to the sounds of cars flying past, horns honking, every bump and pothole on Chicago's well-worn streets. I can't help but pick at a loose thread on my sweater as I worry about where Booth is taking me.

Finally, the car seems to slow down, making its final turns, before coming to a stop. I barely register Booth's warning, as the blindfold is ripped from my face, and I am shoved out of the car. Glancing around and blinking rapidly to allow my eyes to adjust to the sunshine, I immediately notice the large brick factories and warehouses lining the street, some with smokestacks rising to the sky. The building I am being led to has a tall stone fence around its boundary, closing it off from the public view. Its exterior is well-worn from the weather, the red brick fading in colour, and the stone stained from countless years of rain battering its surface. The boundary is disturbed by tall, wrought iron gates, held together by heavy chains, and secured by a padlock. As we approach, the driver brings out a key, the weathered metal lacking in any shine. He swiftly unlocks the padlock, before swinging one side open firmly. Booth leads me into the property, the driver closing the gate and reattaching the padlock before he follows. My heart rate quickens, and my palms begin sweating as the panic I had been trying so hard to push away resurfaced; I force my feet to move forward into the main room of the building.

I notice the large roller door to my right, a small room next to the door we had just walked through. Lining the walls are piles of twisted metal, shelves of bolts and tools, and stacks of timber. Dotted in between are various machines; what they are used for I don't know. As we get closer, I note the thick layer of dust covering everything. We continue forward until we get to an average sized room, with a thick and heavy door. and staircase leading up to the landing. I expect to be pushed up the stairs immediately to the right; instead, the driver unlocks the door, and I am shoved into the room by Booth before he exits and slams the door on my face.

I stand there stunned, as I listen to their footsteps retreat back the way we had come, my eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden lack of light. Darting my vision around the room, I take in my surroundings. The room is no larger than 12 feet across, with a small, grimy window on the outer wall, letting in a trickle of daylight. A slight layer of dust clings to the brick walls and is settled on the floor; the only indication of disturbance is a patch of ground against the wall next to the door, and four small squares arranged like table legs, free from any layer of dust. A dingy mattress lays in the corner, a thin blanket carelessly thrown atop it.

I snap out of my thoughts, and slowly wander across the room to the doorway opposite me, fumbling on the wall with my bound hands until I found a light switch. A single lightbulb softly illuminates the tiled floor, a dingy toilet positioned on the far wall, and a matching sink next to the doorway.

I pull the wooden door closed behind me, switching the light off, as I turn around, and venture back into the main room. I lean up against the metal pole in the centre, resting my head back as I try to wrap my head around my current situation.

Before my mind has a chance to wander, I'm startled by the door being flung open, spinning around to face the doorway as the bang of it hitting the wall echoes around the small space. I flinch at the noise as Booth enters carrying my suitcase, carelessly flinging it onto the floor. A sinister grin appears on his face as he notices my obvious discomfort, and a snicker escapes his lips, as he moves closer,

"Get comfortable".

He swiftly turns on his heel, chuckling under his breath, and strides across the room back to the doorway, slamming the metal shut behind him.