Shadows of Redemption

Chapter Two

"You shouldn't eat too much," Ruth muttered as she brushed through my hair with a wooden hairbrush. "You need to save some for tomorrow." Her left hand went through my hair, and her right brushed over the area she ran her fingers through.
"Okay." I picked at the small strings of cotton sticking out from my pale pink dress. It went down to my ankles. The sleeves of my dress mimic the look of Ruth's vermillion t-shirt, though mine had a white lace rimming around the ends. This was one of the few times Ruth actually spoke to me in the mornings. I looked down at my chapped hands. "It's almost winter," I say, tracing my fingers over the dry skin.
"More of a reason for you to not eat." She sat the brush down on the table in front of me. Her hands were so very smooth, I envy her. "I'm leaving. Touch nothing until I get back." This was her way of telling me to not eat until dinner.
I nod my head. I want to tell her it's too cold for her to be leaving for long periods of time, but she will only leave for longer. Previously, I had asked her to stay home just for that day. I was 14 and feeling ill. She left for 5 days. When she arrived again, I questioned her why she left for all that time. She answered with how much she hates being told what to do. That day I learned to ask for help only if necessary.
The door closed, leaving nothing but the ringing of silence in my ear in the house. Isn't it odd how when there is no noise, you end up listening to something after all? Like something was there that you can't see. Like you're not as alone as you think you are.
My fingers through the ends of my hair. I look down at the split ends and wish to cut them off. I wish I could have short hair like Ruth. Her hair is healthier than mine ever could be. The dark brown shade of my hair didn't pair well with my pale complexion. Ruth's skin was darker than mine. She tells me it's because she goes outside. I have already come to terms that I will never be as tanned as Ruth.
I hear a long creeeak coming from outside. That's when I knew Ruth had left the house. She says there's a big metal gate that makes that noise when she closes it. I stand up from the chair and neaten out my dress before I throw away the empty can of food I had eaten. The trash bin is only a wooden bucket that Ruth dumps outside every week. She says there used to be a thing called 'recycling' but it doesn't exist anymore. I don't ask why. I walk towards the sofa and sit down, not moving too quickly to not blow out the candle now sitting in front of me on the small coffee table. I rarely sit on the sofa until Ruth leaves the house. I don't know why I restrict myself, but I do. Sitting on the couch is just something to do alone—like makeup.
Ruth doesn't buy me makeup. She says my face is beautiful as it is. She gives me these old magazines from years prior that show women with all different styles of makeup—some with natural-looking coverups, and others with extreme art on their faces. I've tried to do it myself with some pens and markers I find around the house, but it never looks as good as what I've seen. It doesn't wash off well either.
I look back at the door behind me, my eyes gliding over to the doorknob. I wonder what would happen if I even attempted to open it. What would be out there? What does the other side of the door look like? What color is the gate? What plants are out there? What can I not see? I look away from the door and stare at my slippers. I do want to leave this house, but what are the consequences? I am not ready to leave this house just yet. It's my home. I grew up here. I can't change my life just because of curiosity. Ruth told me a saying a few years ago. It was about a cat getting killed by curiosity. I am the feline trying to survive, and it's a simple game. Just stay home.
For nineteen years, all I've ever known has been these walls. This exact wallpaper, and these exact hardwood floors. Of course, I've thought about what exists beyond this building. I only daydream about what it is like to lie in the greenest grass and find the smallest insects I have yet to discover. There is a world a million miles out. I know it's there, but I am petrified of what else I could find. I imagine myself falling down a deep well and wonder if that's how I could pass. Year after year; lifetime after lifetime, I know I'm not supposed to be here. This isn't where I should be. I read stories about girls my age who have friends next door to them, but my neighbors are the trees and the occasional plastic bag flying through the wind. The bag is gray, similar to the ones we hold food in, though the gliding bags have a design on them. I never got a good enough look, but it's in a blue color. It's always the same bag, every time.
I run my fingers down the lace laying on my arm, watching as the fabric stretches with every centimeter my finger moves. I breathe as I lean my back against the couch, feeling the rough material against my upper back. The sofa has designs of three different flowers: purple Hyacinths, Lotus flowers, and Heleniums. Most of the furniture has the same three designs with a seaweed-colored background.
My eyes go wide as the candle parallel to me dies out. The smell of the smoke stings my nose even though I am all too familiar with the scent. I sigh once more, then I stand up to look for a matchbox. I took a couple of memorized steps before. Realizing I cannot see any sort of light. They have slaughtered all the fire. The house I was once inside has now disappeared. I am in a black void, left with nowhere to look, nothing to catch my eyes. I stand there, my eyes wide, trying to adjust to the newly found darkness.
"Ruth?" My voice quivered slightly as I spoke one word. That word may have ruined my life. I try to speak again, but a hand gets thrown over my mouth, preventing me from speaking anymore. I feel like I haven't taken a breath in ten minutes. The leathery gloves now on my face are gripping my face tightly as I feel another hand grab my arm with just as much strength. A million thoughts go through my mind and only one sticks out to me. Where is Ruth?
I get jerked back quickly, and I feel a warm breath on my ear as I hear a command. "Don't move, or you die." I can't ask why or how he got inside. I cannot even imagine what Ruth may go through if she is even in as much danger as I am.
I'd never heard a man's voice before this moment. It gave me chills down my spine knowing someone was this close to me and actually touching my skin. I never thought I'd be this close to someone who isn't Ruth, let alone a male.
He keeps his hand on my mouth and my body against him as he makes his way around the house. He seems to know the layout well, as if he can see in the darkness. The wallpaper is a deep maroon, so it's extremely difficult to navigate. As he leads me around the house, my knee bumps into a table and I end up letting out a muffled yell, my knee now throbbing in pain. The man throws me onto the ground and puts something metal on my head. I open my mouth and finally breathe in what feels like a year. "What did I just say?" I hear a few clicks of metallic sounds coming from behind my head.
No words escape my mouth. I cannot think of anything to say at this moment. Maybe I could yell and scream for Ruth to return, but that would just end in death. I stay silent as I hear him grunt and pull me back up by my arm. He leads me out the back entrance of the house. I had never seen this door open before. My legs tremble as I take each step through the door. I know nothing about what looks beyond this point. I've only ever seen the trees wave through the wind.
I feel the exact gust of air I've seen daily. The coldest air I had ever felt, freezing my skin. I find it hard to breathe as we continue to walk. I look up and see a cloudy sky. The moon is nowhere to be found. The smell is nothing like I'd ever experienced. It's exactly how you'd imagine nature to smell. I'm sure the scent would be extremely calming if I weren't in this situation. After a few steps, I feel something graze the sides of my feet. I look down to notice my eyes have adjusted to the difference in lighting. Grass. With every step I take, the grass tickles my ankles and feels almost unreal. I look up to notice we are now going through the forest. I want to reach out and touch the bark on the gigantic logs. What would it feel like if I got a splinter? We move too quickly for my arms to reach out fast enough.
I want to ask where he is taking me, and what he wants with me. I don't understand a single thing this man is doing. No one speaks. He is only a few inches shorter than me, but that doesn't take away from the amount of strength he has. It's hard to take deep breaths with the harsh, chilling draft.
After an extremely long stretch of time, he stops. He doesn't move, and he doesn't say a word. I do the same. I try to look around, wondering why we stopped, but he tightens his grip on my arm. I clench my teeth together as I put my free hand over his gloved hand, trying my best not to make a noise through the pain. My eyes close, I don't want to see what he could be hearing.
He releases his hand from me, but my eyes remain shut. I am frozen again. Even when I can run away, as fast as I can, my legs will not move. Not even an inch. All that moves is my dress and hair as they flow with the leaves. After the silence lasts a moment too long, I open my eyes. He's looking at me like he can see every thought in my mind. I finally got a good look at his face, well half of it. His eyes are dark and his eyebrows are bushy. A reddish-gray colored cloth covers the bottom half of his face. The cloth seemed to be ripped from some other type of clothing. I'm not sure what it could be. He has many layers of dark clothing on; a sweatshirt with a bigger jacket over it. The man also has a brown scarf around his neck, similar to the purple one Ruth wears outside in the winter. "Why won't you run?" He speaks to me, though I feel as though I imagined it. His chin moved from under his face mask as he said those four words. My mind goes blank. I cannot muster up any words, let alone move.
He stays mute for a few moments, waiting for me to answer. Once he realizes I won't answer, I hear him sigh. "I.." He attempts to speak. "Are you even scared?"
I focus on my breathing. In and out. In and out. I look down at the ground, trying to convince my mouth to open up. To say something, anything. I look over and see that my hands are shaking. My vision is getting blurry as I realize the severity of this situation. All I can do is nod my head slightly.
He doesn't move, thinking about my answer. After a moment, he reaches for my arm again and I feel my body move again as he drags me away once more. He glides through the trees and over each stick on the ground. He doesn't look back at me once. I keep my eyes on the ground, making sure I don't trip on anything, though my face gets beat up by the tree branches on the way. The cold air has numbed my face too much to feel the pain.
It's all become a blur. I recall walking through the forest feeling as though I've been dreaming. It didn't feel real. I waited to wake up, but the man continued to drag me away. He won't say where we are going. It's hard to ask questions with the gusts of icy wind hitting my face. As the time went on, I could feel my mind freeze over. One moment I'm walking past trees, but the next I'm alone behind a broken down brick wall. I can hardly feel any part of my limbs at this point. It's pure torture with every step I take. At some point it snows. My body is stiff, my legs are walking by themselves. I want to stop. My bed with candles lit around me sounds like paradise at this moment.
I hear muffled speaking, though I'm still not sure whether I had made it up. I hear a door close behind me and more unclear words I cannot understand. My body is failing me, I'm not used to this. I've never had to endure such a piercing, icy wind. All I had ever known was warmth. My legs had been shaking the entire time we had walked, though, now I fall to my knees. I want to catch myself, but I can't move my body. I can't see clearly anymore. My entire body is shuddering, and I'm scared for a moment before I close my eyes and I pass out.