A Long Way From Home

part 3

She opened her eyes to complete darkness yet again. By the coldness of the concrete floor, she could tell that she was in the basement. Relief filled her veins since solitude seemed to be her only way to survive. Her body was laying on its side, arms placed forward and knees bent as if she was sleeping peacefully. She strained to reposition herself but her body ached with every finger she placed on her skin. She needed to know the damage her body had taken to better analyze her situation. The more her body suffered from injuries, the greater the risk was of her untimely death. Even though her presence in the house made her odds of survival worse, she still tried to find hope through perfect strategy and planning.

Her legs were going numb as she bent her body to lightly feel them: bruised, cut up, bloody but there was no chain. Her body started trembling from the lack of food and water as she attempted to sit up in the fetal position to imagine herself into her comfort zone. In the process of doing so, she accidentally scraped her damaged heel across the concrete making her scream out in anguish. She sobbed loudly, crying out some of the hope she had desperately tried to recreate. She had to get off the filthy floor layered in dirt, glass and who knows what else. Then the idea struck her mind as she sucked up the pain by biting her lip to pat down the floor again. She knew the opportunity to fight was going to rear its ugly head again. This time, she would have a piece of glass that she tucked into the tight string of her panties. From time to time it would cut her side from her moving her torso but she would not remove it; it was her lifeline.

She took advantage of not being chained to stumble her way around the basement to locate the carpet stairs. She just knew the stairs had to be more comfortable than the basement floor. Blind as a bat, arms out in front of her waving from side to side, she searched for anything that could help guide her towards the stairs. A minute later, she found herself facing a brick wall that released gravel when she touched it. She slowly walked along the wall when one of her steps crushed an insect whose organs seeped between her toes, disgusting. Fighting the need to remove the remainder of the insect off her foot, she continued to walk along the wall while keeping her hands glued to it. She found the stairs by accidentally kicking the first step hard enough to break her big toe nail. She struggled to bend down and position herself comfortably on the stairs seeing how there wasn’t an inch of her body that wasn’t cut or bruised. The plan to sleep on the stairs wasn’t carefully thought through but her next plan, the plan to escape, will be. She was sure of it. As she continued to fail at positioning herself in a pleasant matter she heard rushing water and faint humming emitting from the top of the stairs. In the darkness, she saw a light outline where the door was to the left of the top step. Someone was in the kitchen.

Her body laid awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs being indecisive on whether to see who the individual was or not. After taking moments to decide, she started to scoot up the stairs, one by one. Getting up the stairs was a difficult task due to her lack of upper body strength and the fact she had to drag her legs made matters worse. Her body was in serious pain but her lower half screamed how it was dying by being to weak to hold her weight. The higher she got, the more she could tell that the joyous humming she was hearing was female. Each beat to the song that was being hummed filled her body up with temporary strength, as she stood up leaning on the wall by the door. Her legs began to shake excessively as it fought back the need to collapse. She just had to see this mystery person that may be of use to her. She quickly became uncertain about her decision to see the mystery lady after remembering the men, more importantly, the older man. She didn’t want any repeats, any additional pain or any more reasons to cry. Taking seconds to listen to the harmonious humming she realized that it was a chance she had to take.

After taking moments to gather her courage she grasped the doorknob firmly and turned it until the door came open. She made sure that the door was cracked only a little to prevent the horrible squeak sound it created. She held her eye close to the crack, in order to view the person from afar, but the only thing the crack revealed was the white kitchen counter holding cans of food with a wooden cabinet above it. Unfortunately, she had to widen the crack a little more but the pleasant humming made her not hesitate to do so. That’s when she seen her. A girl with long wet hair, far younger than she was, was washing colorful dishes and humming peacefully. She feared the young girl was an accomplice of the men until she took a better, more focused, look at the young girl.

Leaning against the basement door more than she should, she saw that the young girl wore an all white pajama set that was covered in dirt as well as her skin. Just then, the male voices came rushing into the house, scaring the girl back into the basement. She closed the crack of the door, but not completely. She stood there in darkness, listening to the young man plead, as his voice quivered, for the older man to listen to him. The older man shouted a reply as something heavy hit the floor but not before breaking the table and dragging items down with it. As a result, the young man grew quiet as he hurried away from the older man and rushed past the basement door, sniffing his snot as he walked. Throughout all the loudness and commotion, she could still hear the young girls delightful hums over the sound of rushing water. Somehow, she was unaware of her surroundings and the men seemed to pay her no mind at all.

Minutes after the house remained quiet, she slowly cracked the basement door back open to view the young girl. She was deciding on whether she should make contact with this girl who continued to clean the kitchen. Panic overwhelmed her when the young girl started walking towards the basement door. The girl took a step back into the darkness as her lungs filled rapidly and her heart fell into her stomach. Seconds passed and the basement door didn’t open any farther. Curiosity got the best of her when she heard a continuous rattling sound. She gradually leaned forward to peek at the young girl to see what she was doing. She was putting away dishes into the wooden cabinet beside the basement door and her ankle was dragging a chain across the black and white tile floor. The girl tried to see where the origin of the chain was but it was beyond her view. That’s when she knew she had to make contact to force the young girl back into reality, so they could both escape.

The young girl walked back and forth from the sink to the cabinet multiple times, chains rattling, voice humming and mind vacationing miles away. The girl widen the crack enough to fit her arm through when the door made a small squeak sound. She held her breath, wishing no one heard it and her wish was granted. No one seemed to have noticed her presence yet. As she was going to fit the rest of her arm through, the dog walked into the kitchen and sat under the young girls feet, begging to be rubbed. The girl tried to pull her hand back into the basements darkness undetected but the dog saw her. The dog began to take several steps towards the basement when a sharp whistle pierced the air and in seconds, the dog walked back out of view.

The young girl continued her duties as her hums became increasingly annoying to the girl. They were both prisoners, held against their will and she was humming as she did her chores. This time when the young girl walked to the cabinet she had to reach up high to put the pot where it belonged. She struggled to reach it as she stood on her tiptoes trying to hop the pot up on the shelf. The top half of the cabinets door was covering the young girls face as she desperately tried to reach the pots shelf. Being in perfect view of the young girls cuts and bruises made up the girls mind that this was the perfect time to stick her arm out to touch her. The girl held back her tears as the light displayed her arms discolor and filth struggling to reach the young girl. The young girl was farther away than expected as the girl strained for physical contact.

Inches away from the young girls bruised arm, the basement door was slammed shut by the older mans right boot, crushing the girls arm between the door and wall. She screamed as she leaned forward to try and remove her arm. She couldn’t get her arm out from the agonizing pain caused by the door because it was extremely heavy from bearing the older mans weight. He was pressing against the door incredibly hard as if trying to detached her forearm. She cried out loudly as she tried to yank her arm out of its painful position. When the door finally opened, she cradled her bruised right arm by the elbow even though touching it made matters worse. As she looked up at the light coming through the door, the older man grabbed her by her hair, palmed her head and pushed her down the many steps she had difficulty scooting up. After he slammed the door marking his exit, she laid there at the bottom of the stairs, crying waterless tears, bleeding from her side, holding her arm and listening to the young girls humming.