Kingdom

30 | gunshot

g u n s h o t

I woke in my old room surrounded by four stained, concrete walls and two windows. My wooden dresser was ahead of me chipped and scratched from decay with wrinkled clothes dangling out. The air was as stiff as my body.

Lying down on my stomach with my head facing sideways, it felt like two-hundred pounds were pressing down on my upper back as the weight slowly crushed me, leaving no room for lungs to expand for oxygen intake. My ribs poked into the mattress uncomfortably. I tried to let out a scream, but nothing came out. With my heart beat racing, I soon understood that it was one of those nightmares where I couldn't move or speak.

I shut my eyes tightly and prayed. Dad always told me that there was power in Jesus's name; if I ever felt afraid, just ask for his protection and he would deliver. Once my eyes reopened I felt my toes twitch and the movement of my legs. I was awake.

Covered in sheer sweat, my skin stuck to the dirty linen sheets. My breathing was heavy and loud as panic settled in.

I'm here again, I thought. How could I be so naive?

My panic attack started out as inconspicuous as a single blade of grass on a busy kitchen floor. I didn't notice as it seeped into my system and accelerated my heart rate. In another minute, it was the likeness of jumping into a pool of ice cold water. It surrounded every limb, crept higher until it passed my mouth and nose. I yanked at the door knob, jiggled and twisted, but it didn't budge. My gaze shifted to the barred windows and I lost hope. I shouted for him to let me out and kicked at the door until my heels were sore. One quick glance across the space had me remembering my phone and scrambling to it.

I found a charger and after the buzzing of notifications stopped, I tapped my most recent voicemail from Aaron.

"Message received from Aaron on October 9th at 3:07 pm:

I know people don't listen to voicemail nowadays but I hope you get this. If you do, listen carefully, Elizabeth. I followed Mark to your house to make sure I know exactly where you are. But I can't go in alone and I don't know how long you gonna be out; it would look real bad if I carried your unconscious body out the house in broad daylight with him fighting me. That would draw attention from neighbors and make the situation worse. So, I'ma wait until the sun goes down, pull up with Matt and some back up. Hopefully, you'll be up by then. I also talked to someone at a rehab center for your mom. In the meantime, all you gotta do is convince her to leave the house. Get all your stuff together, 'cause we gotta move quick, a'ight? Hang tight- don't do anything to piss that man off. Try not to cry so much. I'm coming for you, baby. I promise.