{{ON HIATUS}}

Chapter 5

Beyond the light was a dark figure sitting in a chair, tied up like me. The only difference was the faint whimpering. Her head was bowed, and her body was limp. It seemed like she'd been there for more than the ten or so minutes I had. If I had one word to describe her, it would be dead. But I would be wrong. She began to lift her head - which looked more like a task than something that comes easy - and the whimpers turned into loud cries. A cold shudder traveled down my spine, and the lump in my throat grew a thousand times bigger. I didn't know what she was looking at until a silhouette of a man emerged from the shadows.

"Please," she begged. "Please no."

The woman's voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. My brain was doing laps around my skull, working hard to figure out what I was seeing and why I was seeing it.

That was when the man began to speak, and all my intentions fell to the floor. "We had a deal, Claire." Claire. My mothers name. Could it be possible? They kidnapped me so easily, so it wouldn't be that hard to take her too. Her features suddenly resembled hers...No, I thought. you can't think that way.

In that moment, that thought, it became clear to me that whatever her destiny was, it was going to be mine, too. As he raised a gun to her head, her pleading stopped and she gave into her fate. I found myself overwhelmed with fear; wanting to look away, but not being able to peel my eyes off the real life horror film projected before me. My vision became accustomed to the dark, and everything looked sharp and clear. I was able to make out the motion of his finger on the trigger, and the loud, echoing bang.

And it was over, just like that. With her head lolling over limp legs. Her limp arms, limp torso, limp everything. I had never watched someone die before. It was all so real; too real. I wanted to cry, I wanted to run somewhere safe, curl up in a ball and weep, but I couldn't. My body refused to fight, refused to move, so I stared straight ahead as the lights flickered away, and I was wrapped in darkness.

>>——>

Maybe they expected me to sleep that night, although I wasn't even sure of the time. The concrete walls allowed no light to penetrate the thick, black blanket in which provided no warmth. I was alone, I was cold, and I was scared. My childish imagination running wild. Images of a lifeless body sitting stiff and cold in that chair, head dangling over pale thighs flashed through my mind. Had they just left the woman there to rot? I wondered what the point of her death was. I wondered WHO she was. She obviously had a life before she was departed from the world, and everything she had ever known. Maybe she was a mother, or a teacher, or a wife. I knew she was a somebody; somebody who loved, and was loved. Somebody to rely on. Somebody who felt.

I heard a faint pattering and shut my eyes. A fuzzy thing brushed against my calf and I let out a quiet whine—that sounded loud in the muted darkness—and told myself it was just a rat, and rats are more fearful of you than you are of them. The pattering sunk away with the stale air and was replaced with the sound of light feet on the cement floor. I began grinding my teeth in attempt to hold back the cry stuck in my throat. They were coming for me this time. It was my turn.

There was a click and the lamp trembled as it sputtered to life, blinding me with it's little light, as my eyes had become accustomed to the darkness. I turned my head away and squinted for the billionth time.

The footsteps stopped and I felt a presence in the room—the sensation of two eyes watching me. It was quiet for a long moment, and then I heard my stomach growl. My mind was so overcome with jumbled thoughts that I had totally forgotten about food...but now it was the only thing on my mind, and I suddenly wanted—no, needed—something, anything, to eat.

If I don't eat now, I think I might die.

Without thinking, I set sights on the man in front of me.

No, I wasn't thinking about eating him. I was desperate, but not that desperate.

His appearance was interesting; apart from the other brooding monsters I'd seen lumbering around, he was smaller. He looked to be around his mid-twenties, and had a less muscular figure, but the features were still obvious under the blue of his shirt. The man wasn't scary so much as intimidating. His expression was cool, but his shoulders were broad. The perfect poise of his demeanour gave me the impression of a comic book character.

If Batman and Superman had a baby, it would be this guy.

We locked eyes and he gave a warm smile. It was kind of shocking to see something so genuine in a place so dark, and I averted my eyes.

He chuckled softly and I could almost feel the cold air shift from the warmth. And then he spoke, and I felt as though I was truly safe. But that was only for a second—then the image of a bullet riding through the woman skull played on replay in my head.

"Hey, kid," the man said. "don't worry. You're safe here."

I looked at him—a shadow cast across half his face—and couldn't help but remind myself that I could trust nobody.