Mind Games

A Speedy Resolution

I bite my lower lip. My brother still hasn't replied. I don't know if he's being smart or if he's – if he's – no! He's fine!

...

I gasp fearfully. I can hear Gaspar down stairs. He meows loudly, sending something skittering and garbage flying.

...

"That'll be hell to clean up." I whisper to no-one in particular, shaking with adrenaline. I tighten my grip on my gun. It's loaded with blanks, but if I aim for the head... Maybe I can knock this shithead out and book it. Kind of an epic visual, but nothing about this situation is 'epic'.

...

I clench my lip as I hear noises in the nearby computer room. Footsteps go right by my room. Is Mark ever going to get here? He's strong, and clever. He can get us out of this, right?

...

Tears begin to well up out of my eyelids. I suddenly pull out my mobile and start to look at the pictures. Me, my brother Derek, my younger sister Milly, Mum and Dad, Mark, Belle...

I need to get out of here. Please, someone, help me!

More shuffling. More footsteps – lighter ones, going past my room. More cautious. Derek? Mark? I finger my keys nervously, wondering if I should unlock the door and try to help them.

That's suicide!

Bang. Bang. I cover my mouth and try not to scream. That was gunfire. The other gun is in Derek's computer room. It has real ammunition. It could save me and Derek.

It also kill us both, and Mark if he's stupid enough to come here.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

...

... Silence...

I catch my breath as I hear footsteps approaching the door. I jump up and move back, raising the gun.

Jitter.

Jitter-shake.

Scratch, scratch.

Click.

The door unlocks.

"Stay where you are!"

He yells at me. I feel a tear finally spill its way down my cheek. Before I can pull the trigger, the gun is knocked from my hand.

I'm flat on my bed. I kick and flail and scream.

"Get off! Get the fuck off me you piece of shit!"

Hands pin mine. I'm pressed flat into the mattress. I try to struggle – try to break his hold.

"Let go of me! Let me go! Please!" I beg. "Please! Let us go!"

"... -lene... Marlene..."

The blurry images snap into a fuller picture.

"Marlene, it's me. Mark."

I stop struggling. Mark lets go of one hand tentatively, then the other. Before he can get off. I cling to him and start to bawl.

"Mark! Ma-ark, I thought – I thought I was –"

I cry. Like a little baby left all alone with a stranger, I cry. Mark shushes me gently, not moving except to put his hands closer to my head. I feel a little bit safer.

"Hey, I'm right here." Mark breathes. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. It's over now, Marlene. The cops are on their way. I called them when I got here, but I couldn't wait for them. I had to help you."