Sealed and Silenced (Watty Awards 2012)

Sealed and Silenced: Chapter 2

“Wake up!” The voice had the essence of a burly man with rough features.

What had happened? Why was I he- before my thought could finish, memories can floating back. The boat, the escape, the water, the beach, the man knocking me out and taking me to another man named Jack.

My clothes were now dry and hair had fallen over my face in tangled dreadlocks. The gag is gone from my mouth, but the blind fold is still in place. I notice that my hands are tied behind the chair I am sitting in. I take a deep breath in. It smells like fish. Panic started to sweep my insides.

“Who are you?” A voice surprising close asked, making my jump. If I was back on the boat, they would know who I was. So where was I?

 “Who are you?” The voice growled again. I go to reply but find my voice caught in my throat. It has been so long since I have talked, I don’t think I know how anymore. I can scream, but that will only piss these men off. Instead, I shake my head. Actions are my only hope now.

The blindfold is violently ripped from my head. Blinking, I look around. The light is dim, but I can make out multiple figures. A man stands in front of me. He has a wild brown beard and hair loosely worn to his ears. His eyes seemed like a hard shield of dark brown rock and his cheek bones stand high. The smell of tobacco radiates from his rugged clothes and I am immediately reminded of the chef. I know this Jack; the other men around the room give me the sense that this is their boss.

“What is your name?” An easier question, yet I don’t know the answer. I’ve forgotten my name. It was never needed on the boat. I just had to lie on my bed and let the men have their way with me. I know it was pretty once.

My answer is a shrug.

This was not the answer Jack was looking for. A tanned hand reaches out and slaps my face, leaving it slightly red.

“Where did you come from?” Again I do not know. My home was colourful, and we lived in a big city. That is all I can remember.

I shrug again.

A growl escapes the man’s lips, and I’m afraid he will hit me again. He doesn’t.

“Take her downstairs.” Jack straightens and spits on the floor, turning his back to me. He chews his tobacco.

Rough hands shove me upwards, sliding my hands from the chair. A push from behind signals movement towards a door across the room. I take this time to look around. A bar takes to my right, behind it filled with bottles of all shapes, liquor contained within. Tables and chairs litter the room like mutated over weight locusts.

Soon, I am pushed into the door and I open it. This leads downstairs. They look old and well worn, nearly thin. What if I fall through? I doubt these men would care.

“Move it,” The man pushing me grumbles. My legs shaking, I start down the stairs. They aren’t as bad as they seem. Quite sturdy, actually.

The stairs went straight down, and then took a sharp turn to the left. With each step, it grew darker, damper, and colder. The smell of fresh soil plugged my nose as we reached the bottom.

I turned back to the man, fear piercing my green eyes. I could easily see a pistol tucked under his arm, and a hunting knife on his belt. He took my hands and cut them free.

“Welcome,” he gave a toothless grin and hurried back up the stairs.

The door shut above with a slam, and I looked back to the room. It appeared to be a cellar of some kind.

Suddenly, a brilliant light filled the room and I seemed to be temporarily blinded. Squinting against the new found light, I saw slim figures. Teenage figures it seemed. Most looked like they had been through a pretty rough time and I felt a strange sense of relief. Relief that I might not have to go through what happened on the boat alone, relief that others shared my pain, and just the relief that I wasn’t alone down here.

As my eyes adjusted, I noticed the light was just multiple candles being light at once. The next thing I noticed was a tall blonde had started to walk towards where I stood, shrunk by the stairs. She wore torn jeans and an old concert t-shirt that had a rip down the middle. It seemed to be held together with a hair pin.

“Hello, my name is Natalie Petrove.” The blonde had reached me and extended a lanky hand to me. I stared at it. What was I supposed to do with it?

“Not a hand shaker? That’s cool.” This girl seemed to be around seventeen. “How did you end up here?” At her question, several heads snapped up out of misery and into interest.

I stared blankly at Natalie. An awkward and stunned silence seemed to pound in my ears. Natalie raised an eyebrow and I could feel the piercing glares of everyone in the room lighting me on fire. My heart started to beat faster, my breath quickened. I can’t respond. These people don’t like me.

“Nat, I don’t think she can speak. At least not English” A boy with sandy blonde hair stood up. He looked like he was from the coast. The new boy had the looks, and what I could see from the much worn t-shirt he was wearing, he had the muscles to go with the title. My breath caught. He was beautiful.

The girl’s eyes softened, as well as everyone else’s.

“Can you speak English?” The boy asked, turning to me. I shrugged. I couldn’t remember if I did or not. I must have or I wouldn’t have been able to understand anything. The glares were back, boring all over my filthy and mostly uncovered body.

“Can you speak at all?” He asked. I shook my head and pointed at my throat. He got the idea.

“Can you write?” Another shake of my head. The boy nodded.

“I’m Carter, by the way. I’d ask you what your name is but you wouldn’t be able to tell me.” A slight smile crossed my lips before it quickly disappeared. I don’t smile. I haven’t smiled since I was taken away three years ago.

“Come,” Carter held out his hand for me. I didn’t take it. He let it fall, clearly sensing my distrust. Instead he let me follow him over to a corner with a single white candle.

“Please, sit.” Carter gestured to the ground. I sat, slowly. So did he.

“I’m the peace keeper down here.” Carter smiled. He had the most amazing smile. Pearly white teeth flashed, and his eyes lit up. Blue eyes, Carter had blue eyes, like an ocean on an early morning.

“Do you know sign language?” I shook my head. The reaction of Carter was not one I expected. My body was mostly uncovered, and the clothes that survived were horribly dirty and must have smelled. Plus I didn’t speak.

“Are you tired?” He asked. I took a moment to ponder the question. In this moment, my heavy lidded eyes closed, and my shoulders slumped. I was tired.

Carter, seeing my exhausted, gently put a hand on my shoulder to lay me down. I tensed.

And eyebrow rose on the boys face and he let go.

Carefully, I lay on the ground, turning on my side. I didn’t quite trust this man. But there was something that made me want to trust Carter. Just something.

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