Run (#Wattys2016)

17

Chapter 17

A plan. I had to hand it to her. It was a good plan. But it couldn’t take affect. Not yet. Not until Aaron made the first move. This plan would need a lot of perfecting. But I think it would work. As long as every little detail went correctly. Okay, maybe it wouldn’t work. But we had to try. 

Emily and the girls had went over to their designated corner a while ago. I could here their whispers and feel the furtive looks they gave me. But I was too out of it to care. Too out of it to notice it fully. My eye lids kept getting heavier and heavier. There was really nothing I could do when they didn’t open.

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“Grandpa!” I yelled gleefully, running to the front porch. 

“Hey, tomboy,” he replied, scooping me up into his arms, “Oh, Darl. There’s no need to look so sour, son. Come here.”

“No,” my Father replied curtly. I turned just in time to see the car door slam shut and him drive away.

“Ah well,” Grandpa sighed, looking after him, “We can have a good time without him. Can’t we, Lekia?” I nodded vigorously and took his hand as he led me inside. 

“Grandpa?” I asked later that day, sitting on his lap.

“Hmm?”

“Daddy says I’m going to be a soldier just like him when I grow up! But I have to do exactly what he says. And if I can’t, then I’m not strong enough. Do you think I’m strong enough to be a soldier like Daddy, Grandpa?” He gave me a sad look. 

“Lekia,” he breathed, “I think that you are strong enough to conquer anything in your path. You know why?” I shook my head no. “Because you have God on your side. And with God on your side, anything is possible. But Lekia-” My eyes lit up when he said that I was strong enough and he stopped in his tracks. He shook his head and started again, “Lekia, what does he want you to do?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, “Daddy said that it was training that he had learned in the Marines! He’s already been teaching me! He says that when I grow up, that I’ll make him proud!” My eyes were practically glowing I was smiling so much. I didn’t understand why Grandpa wasn’t smiling back. He looked like he was about to say something. His mouth opened--and the sound of a car honking came out. Wait, no. That was Daddy. It was time to go home. 

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Dad forced me to sit. The chair beneath me was metal. Like ones they used in interrogation rooms. My hands were roughly pulled behind my back and handcuffed to the chair. The blindfold didn’t come off. But this was nothing new. I had gone through this a hundred times before. 

“This is how this is going to work,” came my Father’s voice, “I’m going to ask the questions, and you’re going to give me the answers.” I could hear him pacing. I kept my head straight as if I was staring at the wall ahead. 

“What’s your name?” I didn’t answer. Didn’t let my body move even the slightest bit. That showed that I was cracking. And I didn’t crack. 

“I said,” there was a click as a bullet was slid into the chamber of a gun, “what is your name?” I knew he was pointing the gun at me. But I wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t shoot me if he needed information from me. There was no doubt in my mind. 

There was a slight click as the trigger of the gun was pulled. No bang followed. I was right. He needed me alive. He would not shoot me. And now his bluff was gone. There was a clatter as the gun hit the floor. And then there was a rush of air. 

A fist connected to my face and the chair I was sitting in was knocked over. It landed on its side and my head bounced off the ground. I spit the blood out of my mouth.